


Cloudy Eyes

by Star_Gazing_Knight



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Alien Impostors, Attempted Murder, Character Death, Crewmate becomes Impostor, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Dubious Science, Ethics, Graphic death scenes, Human Impostors, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Morality, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Parasites, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Gazing_Knight/pseuds/Star_Gazing_Knight
Summary: After his disasterous mission on Polus, Cyan and two other crewmates are assigned to a ragtag crew made up of tragic mission crewmates to a mission on a Skeld-Class Frigate.  They've all had different experiences with Impostors, some more than others.  And while things seem fine on the surface, there's always danger lurking unseen underneath.With the death of a crewmate triggering the world falling down upon their heads, the Crew struggles to survive.**Not tagging who the Impostors are for Spoiler Reasons. I want to see who can guess them!**
Relationships: Crewmate/Crewmate (Among Us), Crewmate/Impostor (Among Us), Cyan/Red (Among Us), Impostor/Impostor (Among Us)
Comments: 140
Kudos: 316





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Character Design for Cyan and Red was based on and inspired by Velinxi's [designs](https://velinxi.tumblr.com/post/630364266392928256/among-us-blue-crewmate-and-his-red-imposter/) with artist permission. Check out their art, it's pretty awesome!

The Cafeteria was completely silent as all the members of the crew either stared at each other, the table, or the paperwork in front of them. Cyan nibbled on his lips as he looked out among them. Even with the mandated helmets, there were a few that he recognized.

Pink and Purple were obviously from his last disastrous mission on the Polus Outpost; and he was pretty sure that Black was the same as the Black from his first ever five missions. 

The others, however, were new and unfamiliar. The thought of being stuck on this small ship with such unknowns made his stomach twist in a nearly painful way. At least on Polus there had been the _option_ of running away from potential Impostors. Here… here they were trapped until they made Planet-side.

He wondered, briefly, where the others were from his last mission and why Mira had decided to separate them. He also wondered if all the unknown others were here because they too had met tragedy on their previous missions.

Cyan’s past missions on Skeld-Class Frigates hadn’t included such a massive table. Nor had they included the big bright red button sitting inconspicuously in the middle of it. He felt like the fact that none of them even questioned it or what it was for was rather telling.

Pink shuffled anxiously from where he was standing before taking a seat at the massive table. “Obviously, we don’t need to fill out the paperwork right now—”

“Of course we do.” Yellow disagreed. “The sooner we get this paperwork done, the sooner our mission is finished, and the sooner we go home.” Across the table, Orange snorted. It was hard to tell with the visor of the helmet, but Cyan thought Yellow shot Orange a look. “Do you have something to say, Orange?”

“Not really.”

“Well, um. I was thinking we could talk, get to know each other…” Pink fidgeted. Cyan felt for him, he really did. That Polus mission had been Pink’s first ever mission. And what a shipwreck that had turned into.

Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could still see the scene. He knew it intimately. After all, he had been the only one to actually clean it up.

“All that does is invite trouble.” Green argued. “What if… what if something like what got us stuck together happens here? We won’t be able to do what needs to be done.”

What needed to be done. Cyan felt sick just hearing the words. When he blinked, the image of Lime reaching out for help as they fell into the lava flashed behind his eyelids. If that had been ‘doing what needed to be done’ on Polus, what would it be here? 

“Green,” Brown hissed. “Be nice. ALSO, _you_ didn’t even do anything. _Black_ threw _herself_ out the damn airlock.” 

Oh. 

So that was what it was here. He looked past the crew to the giant window showing empty space outside the ship. 

His mouth felt too dry, like he’d shoved a thousand cotton balls into it. When he tried to lick at his lips, they were chapped.

He tried not to imagine it. Floating out in space, all alone. _Alive_. Just waiting for the oxygen attached to their suits to run out. Just waiting to _die_. Spinning slowly in circles as their bodies decomposed in their suits. He tried not to imagine how it’d feel. How terrifying it had to be. 

“Your Black was an impostor?” Black finally spoke. Cyan had been right, it _was_ the Black that he had known. His voice was just as reassuring as it had been on Cyan’s first five missions before Black had been reassigned. 

“We… uh… aren’t suppose to talk—” Pink started. Which was slightly rich because Pink had been something of a gossip while they were on Polus.

“It’s why we’re here.” Black interrupted. “The company can tell us not to talk about it all they want, but the truth’s the truth: We were all crewmates to an impostor. And even now, there’s a good chance there’s an Impostor among us.”

Silence descended down upon the entire crew like a pack of rapid animals. Black’s words were terrible and horrible and every other synonym that Cyan couldn’t think of. He regretted ever thinking of ‘Black’ and ‘reassuring’ together.

What had happened to the Security officer from Cyan’s first five missions?

The one who gave him noogies and snuck him extra cookies from the cafeteria? The one who would let Cyan watch the security feeds while on break? Cyan was certain it was the same Black, but… he seemed so jaded now. 

He said that they had all been crewmates to an imposter, and Cyan couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really true. It made sense, in a sick kind of way.

If Mira put all the crews who had worked with Impostors with other crews who had worked with Impostors, then they could limit the rumors. And if any Impostors managed to stay hidden, managed to survive with the crew… then it would be easier to contain them. To catch them.

What if… what if Black was right? And there was an Impostor here? 

His mind cut to the scene of Lime’s crime, and his stomach twisted painfully. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Red spoke for the first time. Like Black, there was this oddly reassuring quality to his voice. Unlike Black, his words matched. “There’s no need to fear monger.”

“Red?” Orange, who had seemed so sour at the beginning, perked up at the sound of his voice. “It’s been _ages_ since we were last crewmates! Oh, it’s going to be so nice having Security that’s not this Grumpy gummy bear.”

“You two know each other?” Pink asked. 

“Obviously.” Cyan couldn’t tell because of the visor, but based off the tone of her voice, he suspected Green was rolling her eyes. 

Orange ignored Green. “Mmmhmm,” She nodded. “Red and I graduated the Academy together. We even did a couple of missions before a different crew needed his expertise.” 

“That’s awesome that you guys know each other! Anyone else?” Pink asked. Ah, there it was. Pink was hitting his stride now.

“We’re suppose to be filling out this paperwork so we can get started on our tasks.” Yellow tapped the paperwork three times. Despite the suit, the sound of their finger hitting the table was sharp and loud. “The sooner we do the tasks, the sooner we get off this graveyard.”

“It’s only a graveyard if you make it one.” Knowing Purple, it was probably meant to be a joke. Maybe it was just the tension of being reassigned, of a new mission and new crew, or from their topic just moments ago, but the joke fell completely flat. So flat, in fact, it almost sounded like it could have been an accusation.

Which was ridiculous. Purple didn’t even know Yellow. Not yet, anyways.

“Yellow isn’t an Impostor.” Black stood bracing his hands on the table as he growled at Purple.

“No one is accusing Yellow of being one!” White also stood up, only she stood up to throw an arm up in front of Black, like that would protect Purple if Black decided to do something. “There’s no proof there’s an Impostor here.” 

“There probably is.” Green leaned back in her chair. Brown rested her helmeted head in her hands. Cyan could hear her whispering something, but he couldn’t make out what it was exactly. It sounded almost like prayers. “I mean, we have _three_ Security on this crew. I don’t know about you guys, but that’s suspicious to me.”

Black, Red, and White all spoke at once. Cyan felt like his head was spinning as his mind tried to piece what each of them had said. Just as soon as they started speaking, they all fell quiet. Cyan suspected they were glaring at each other.

“Three Security is expected. Former Imposter Crews always have higher security.” Yellow paused. “Your last crew must have been your first impostor. This is pretty standard. Black’s right, they mash us together because we all encountered Impostors. We won’t be able to trust another crew properly again.”

“And they’ll never trust us.” Orange agreed, leaning back in her chair. “The only ones who could possibly understand us are others like us.” She turned to look at either Red or Black. “Isn’t that right, boys?” Or both, apparently. 

Red sighed loud enough for it to be heard through his receiver. Black grumbled but sat back down. White’s sigh wasn’t audible like Red’s but her shoulders heaved as if she sighed as well. “Now that that drama’s over, lets finish our paperwork and dish out tasks.”

Red tapped twice on the table. “Are we going to be doing a buddy system?”

“That’s pretty sus to ask if you don’t think there’s an Impostor here.” Black said. “Need someone to provide an alibi for you?”

Red stared at Black for a good solid moment. “I was only asking to make _you_ feel better, since you’re the one convinced one of us is a murderer.”

A murderer.

Cyan couldn’t take this anymore. He stood up with enough force to topple his chair. He didn’t care. He swiped the paperwork that Pink had given them, that Yellow had been so adamant about filling out, and bolted.

“Now _that’s_ Sus.” He heard Black say.

“Leave him alone!” He heard Purple reply. Cyan didn’t stay to hear anything more. His feet guided him to the medbay. He felt like he couldn’t breath and threw the paperwork and his helmet onto the floor as he curled up on the first bed closest to the door.

The small cloud of dust that his action had caused tickled his nose. It smelled stale and old in the Medbay. It was… creepy to be in the medbay without anyone else. The overhead lights flickered. He curled up tighter into himself, pressing his face into his knees. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, slow and leisurely. Cyan imagined it was Purple, or maybe even Pink. His face burned with embarrassment.

Pink the newest recruit, not him. Yet he was one acting like he was. The footsteps came to a stop and silence reigned. He strained his ears, listening for anything. For the sound of the oxygen tank attached to a suit, for breathing. For the rustle of the suit.

There was just silence. 

It reminded him of the maintenance/security building of Polus. How empty the building had seemed, especially after… everything. 

“That can’t be comfortable.”

But there was someone there despite the silence. It just wasn’t who Cyan expected, at all. His face was probably red enough to match Red’s suit. His stomach flipped over and over as he looked up at Red.

He stood in the doorway, a hand on the wall and foot just barely in the medical bay. “Can I come in?”

Purple would have just marched in. This was his domain, technically. At least, until they finished their tasks – or died – and they all moved on. In an endless cycle of mistrust of crewmates.

 _“Death is a kinder fate.”_ Lime had whispered to him before being thrown into the Lava. Cyan had to wonder if he might have been onto something there.

“Nothing stopping you.” Cyan replied. He looked away, unable to continue staring at that blank helmet when he wasn’t wearing one himself. 

Red hummed. It was an oddly pleasant noise. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset anyone.”

“Black should be apologizing.” Purple cut in as they marched past Red without even so much as an ‘excuse me’. “Honestly, what was he thinking?” The white lab coat they wore over their suit swished as they came to a stop in front of Cyan. Purple shook their head and then looked over their shoulder at Red.

“You’re still here?” They asked. Cyan had been around Purple long enough to imagine them arching one of their perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

“I’ll be in the Cafeteria.” Cyan couldn’t see Red from behind Purple, but he could hear Red’s footsteps as he walked away. 

Purple removed their helmet and inhaled deeply as they dropped the helmet on the bed beside Cyan, creating a much smaller dust cloud. Purple scrunched up their nose. “I always forget how disgusting these frigates are when we first get to them. Why Mira doesn’t just scrap them is beyond me.”

“They still have their uses.” Cyan shrugged. Just like how they still had their uses for Mira. Even if that use was just to be thrown away. “I guess.”

“Enough of that.” Purple wasn’t mean when they snapped like that. It was just how Purple was. They were snappy and their sense of humor… could have been better. But they meant well. Despite their feelings about the dust, they sat down next to Cyan on the bed and wrapped an arm around them. 

“I know what happened on Polus was… hard.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Have you been taking the medication I prescribed?”

Cyan chewed on his bottom lip, picking at a chapped part. He had been taking the medication, but he was better now. He didn’t need to keep taking it, right? “I was cleared for this mission.” Cyan answered. 

Purple said that his stress had manifested in the sickness Cyan had felt after returning from Polus. He didn’t feel sick anymore. Not like he had. Now he just felt like a different kind of sick, a type of sick that he just didn’t think pills would help with.

Purple was quiet in a way that told Cyan that Purple _knew_ exactly what Cyan wasn’t saying. “You were cleared for this mission.” Purple repeated with a sour tone. “Right.”

“Hey.” Cyan leaned to the side to shoulder check Purple. “This is supposed to be an easy mission, yeah? Maybe this is just what I need.” 

“I suppose.” Purple sucked on their teeth. “Take it easy, and if you need me…”

“I’ll come get you.” Cyan promised. He looked down at the paperwork and frowned. “I should take care of that, shouldn’t I?”

“Pink won’t mind, but Yellow might.” 

Cyan nodded, and got off the bed to grab the paperwork and his helmet. He paused at the doorway and looked back at Purple. “Do you think Black is right? That there’s an Impostor among us?”

The silence between Cyan’s question and Purple’s response seemed to stretch. His stomach, which had finally unknotted itself, returned to a twisted mess. It was quiet enough he swore he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

“We were all cleared for this mission.” Purple finally stated. “You should get back to the Cafeteria and finish up your paperwork. Yellow wants it by the end of the shift.”

It wasn’t the response Cyan wanted. It was barely a response at all. Cyan nodded once, and held his paperwork between his legs while he jammed the helmet back on his head. He grabbed his paperwork and took a deep breath as he headed to the cafeteria.

This was a new mission, a new crew. There was absolutely no proof that there was an Impostor on the ship with them. They had all been through different harrowing experiences, but that was okay. They were safe and fine now. They had three security crewmates with them who seemed pretty determined at their job if the blinking red camera outside medical was anything to go by.

Everything was fine and was going to _stay fine_. 


	2. Chapter 2

It’d been a week since the mission started, and things finally seemed to have fallen into a routine that Cyan was comfortable with. 

Purple was concerned that his nightmares hadn’t abated but was at least partially mollified by the fact that they hadn’t gotten any worse either. They were, for the most part, the same. They still started with him going into the maintenance/security building in Polus and finding Lime standing there over Blue’s body. Or well, what was left of it. 

Part of Cyan wondered, even to this day, what Lime had done to Blue’s body to make it disintegrate into a fleshy mass the way that it had. Surely there had been some sort of acidic or corrosive agent used. There was plenty to choose from in that building. 

The fact that an agent was likely used was the sole reason that Cyan had been the one voted to clean it all up. He knew the dangers the best.

But it didn’t do well for anyone to dwell on the past. Especially one as gruesome and disgusting as that. 

Everyone here had their own sordid tale to tell. He just happened to share his with Purple and Pink.

And Pink was apparently more than happy to share the tale to the others so that Cyan and Purple didn’t have to. Purple had long since dipped out of the cafeteria, citing a task involving samples or something. Cyan suspect that they just didn’t want to hear the tale again.

The only reason Cyan hadn’t left was because eating outside the Cafeteria was strictly forbidden, and he had been starving all day. It was for that reason alone that he hadn’t taken Brown’s route and abandoned his salad at the gory details, but instead had followed after Green’s lead of eating whatever he could.

“The body disintegrated?” Black repeated. 

Pink stumbled over his words, clearly not expecting to be interrupted. Either that or he wasn’t expecting Black to actually be paying attention. While the gory bits had forced Brown to abandon her salad, she had started to ignore the tale in favor of her tablet.

Cyan suspected she was messaging Green. 

Honestly, Cyan was surprised that Black was listening. But then again, Black had always been an attentive listener back with Cyan was a rookie. On the flip side, however, Pink was a bit of a gossip, and loved to tell tales. Especially if they belonged to someone else.

It was kind of funny, considering Pink had been all ‘don’t talk about it’ in the beginning. 

Regardless, Cyan wouldn’t have faulted Black for zoning Pink out.

“Yep.” Pink popped the ‘p’. “Poor Cyan spent days cleaning it all up, HQ’s orders.” Pink leaned back against Cyan’s table and wrinkled his nose. “It was disgusting. I couldn’t understand how it had been Blue, but… the suit doesn’t lie.”

Disgusting was the least of it. He stared down at his salad, but all he could think about was Blue’s body and how it felt to be cleaning it up. How it had smelled. How no matter how much chemicals he used, the scent just. Wouldn’t. Go. Away.

His stomach lurked, and oh, well, there went his appetite.

“I thought you said there was only one Impostor on your mission?” Orange asked. She glanced at Black and grimaced. “If the body…then…” She trailed off. 

“Yeah.” Black nodded once sharply.

“Well, Shit. Aren’t they lucky?” Orange shook her head. She stood up, grabbing her only partially finished salad and taking it over to the trash. 

“I… feel like I’m missing something here.” And Pink wasn’t the only one based on how everyone else was reacting. Green, Brown, and Yellow looked just as equally mystified as Pink.

Cyan heavily considered hightailing it to the medbay to avoid listening to this any longer. He didn’t want to hear any theories or— 

“Your Blue was an Impostor.” Orange said simply, like she was just announcing the time of day or what tasks she had left.

“What?” Cyan asked at the same time Pink shook his head and said, “No way!”

“If he was an Impostor, why’d their Lime kill him?” Green demanded. 

“Exactly! Impostors don’t kill Impostors!” 

Orange looked over her shoulder and frowned at them. “Just because they’re both Impostors doesn’t mean they get along.” She half shrugged. “Black and I have had our share of experiences with Alien Impostors. They don’t always get along with Human ones.”

Cyan had a funny sinking feeling that he knew where this conversation was going. He shook his head as Pink, Green, and Brown repeated ‘Aliens!?’ like they thought Orange was crazy.

Yellow had a thoughtful look on their face as they considered the idea. 

“And they aren’t friendly.” Orange continued. “You’re lucky Lime took Blue out before Blue killed you all.”

And she went there; Cyan thought she would. All the color in Pink’s face drained, as he registered Orange’s words. 

Cyan shook his head. “Alien Impostors are just a myth.” That’s all it was. A bedtime story to scare mini crewmates into being good. His father had told him the stories about Alien Impostors as a bedtime story for as long as Cyan could remember.

Terrifying Alien Impostors who had sharp jagged teeth like broken glass, who could morph and change their bodies at will into dangerous deadly weapons. They didn’t need to breath air or drink water. Heck, they didn’t need to eat. 

But that didn’t mean that they didn’t. Oh no, they ate bad mini crewmates who were up out of bed after hours or didn’t eat their veggies.

“No.” For the first time a while, Cyan heard something other than paranoia in Black’s tone. But pity wasn’t much better. “No, they’re not.” He sighed and shook his head. “And when they die… its like their body can’t keep its form anymore and it just…”

“Dissolves.” White said, stepping into the cafeteria. “It’s fucking disgusting.”

“You have experience?” Orange asked. “Black and I thought we might be the only ones.”

White nodded and headed over to the dispenser to get her dinner salad. “One of my previous missions. I guess the Impostor didn’t realize that me and that Crew’s Orange were there when they attacked. Orange took his utility knife out and attacked them.” 

“Brave man.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” Orange sat back down next to Black and leaned back in her chair. “Did he make it?”

Cyan didn’t want to hear this. But it was like a watching an emergency happen before his eyes. He felt frozen, stuck to his seat. His stomach churned, and he felt mildly ill.

“Stars no.” White snorted. She took a seat near Cyan and stabbed at her salad with her spork. “Damn thing speared him just as he succeeded in killing it. I was just… plastered to the wall in fear, you know? It was my first encounter with an Impostor and I just… I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.”

She popped the sporkful of salad into her mouth as she finished eating, and Cyan wondered just _how_ she could eat after saying something that horrible so nonchalantly. Did none of these people have any regard for another’s life?

Was this the fate that awaited them? That awaited Pink and Purple, Green and Brown? Himself? Were they just going to be tossed from Impostor-weary crew to Impostor-weary crew, always having to look over their shoulders from fear and distrust?

 _“Death is a kinder fate.”_ Lime reminded Cyan.

No. No, no, no. This was supposed to be a new beginning. A ~~mostly~~ new crew, with a new mission, and new tasks. There was no Impostor here. 

“That’s rough.” Black said. “How many crews have you been through?”

“Too damn many.” White speared another sporkful of salad. “You?”

“Same. Orange’s been with me the last three crews.”

White hummed around the spork in her mouth. There was almost a thoughtfully predatorial look in her eyes that made Cyan want to squirm. He picked up his tray and helmet as he stood. “I’m going to go check on Purple; see if they need anything.”

He knew he didn’t need to announce where he was going and why, but it just felt … right to do so. Especially after the conversations they’d been having. 

White blinked up at him and speared another sporkful of salad. The plastic tines hitting the plastic tray seemed to echo in the cafeteria. 

“Don’t you want to hear more about the Aliens?” She asked. And it was an innocent question, but something about it, about her just made him feel all sorts of wrong. He attributed it to the way she was ~~violently~~ eating her salad. At this point, Cyan wasn’t sure if she was actually trying to get salad on her spork or if she was just stabbing it.

“I do!” Pink – always eager for a story and gossip. More power to him, Cyan supposed. He had heard enough. 

“The more we know, the better off we’ll be.” Yellow turned their gaze onto Cyan, and he _hated_ that he felt like they were judging him for wanting to leave. For wanting to escape this situation and atmosphere. His skin felt like it was _crawling_ under his suit. 

It took a bit of will power to walk past White and Black and Orange to dump his tray, and then it took even more to cross passed them once more to get to the medbay area. He felt like their eyes were on him the entire time.

“Cyan.” He stopped at the threshold of the cafeteria, holding his breath as he waited for Black to continue. “Don’t forget to put back on your helmet.”

He tossed what he hoped was a friendly smile over his shoulder. “Thanks Black.” He waved before shoving the helmet on. It wasn’t a long trip to the medbay, but it felt like forever, and he tossed his helmet the moment he was through the doors. 

“Surprised you didn’t bail sooner.” Purple stood by the medical scanner in the back, writing something down on their clipboard as they examined samples in the analyzer in the wall. They looked up when Cyan didn’t respond and frowned. “Stars, Cyan.” They hit a button on the analyzer and then stripped their medical gloves before approaching. “Go lie down on a bed.”

“M’fine.”

“And I’m the CEO of Mira.” Purple rolled their eyes. They pulled out their tablet and hit a couple of buttons. “I’m taking you off tasks for the rest of the day.”

“No.” Cyan shook his head. “I’m fine, really. And Orange and I both had tasks scheduled for the Electrical room, and she doesn’t like going in there alone.”

Neither did Cyan, if he was honest. The darkness always felt so.. foreboding and dangerous. Like _something_ could pop out within a moment’s notice. And now that he had heard them talk about those Aliens… maybe something could.

No. No, that was ridiculous. There were no Impostors on this ship.

Purple studied Cyan for a good long moment before grounding out, “Fine”. Cyan beamed at him, and Purple rolled his eyes and returned to his samples. “Stay for as long as you need.”

Cyan nodded, and took a seat on one of the beds. Unlike the first time he’d been in here, there were no clouds of dust. The air smelled sterile, but stale and old. It was nice, peaceful. 

Orange knocked on the wall next to the door. “You ready to go?” She asked. Cyan nodded and climbed to his feet. Purple nodded at him as he left with Orange.

“I thought you would have stayed in the cafeteria a bit longer.” He said. 

“Nah. I already know the stuff Black and White are telling the others.” The watch on her suit beeped and she jumped before pulling out her tablet. “Stars. I forgot to swipe my card in Admin.” 

She paused, and Cyan could just _feel_ her looking at him. “You’re pretty light on your feet. Could you go swipe it for me? Pretty please? Yellow’ll kill me if I miss it again.” 

“Putting it in manually sucks.” Cyan could very distinctly recall Pink complaining about that for days. Really, it would be a pain for Yellow. And then Orange would get chewed out. But… crewmates weren’t suppose to do other crewmate’s tasks.

But… it would just be easier if he did it. And he could make it to admin and back probably before Orange made it to Electrical. He might have been short, but he was always quick on his feet.

“Fine.”

“Thank the stars.” Orange threw her arms around him and squeezed. “Here.” She pressed the wallet to his hands. “Lightspeed, Cyan. My life is in your hands.”

He laughed and bounced on his feet before jogging down the hallways towards Admin. It would take a little longer to circumvent the Cafeteria, but Yellow was likely still there with the others. Red ducked out of the security office as he passed. 

“Missed your swipe card?” He called out. Cyan didn’t have a chance to do more than just nod before he hit the lower engine room. He wound through the ship past Electrical and storage, and panted as he finally hit Admin.

It was empty of Brown, Pink, or Yellow. Perfect.

He opened Orange’s wallet and pulled out her security card, and managed to get it first swipe – score! – but paused when he went to put it back. It wasn’t that he was a nosey person, but his gaze had fallen on the singular picture in the wallet.

Mira Regulations stated a Crewmate could only have one personal picture on them. Most people chose their family – Cyan’s was a picture of his mother and father – but Orange’s was different. For starters, she was in her own picture.

She was younger than the Orange he knew, with a wide smile and bright eyes, wearing a Foretegreen suit that showed she was still in the academy and hadn’t yet graduated with her color designation. She had her arms thrown around the neck of a boy – also in Foretegreen – who offered the camera a restrained and tired smile.

Restrained and tired, but happy. Cyan could tell by the way his eyes crinkled. One of his arms was wrapped around Orange, helping to hold her weight as she hung off of him. Her face was smashed against his. 

Cyan smiled to himself.

It was clear they weren’t siblings, but rather close friends. And the picture was cute, full of joy and cheer. It certainly didn’t hurt that the guy was cute. 

He finished returning the badge and shut the wallet. It was nice to see that not all of Orange’s life had been full of Impostors and betrayal.

The trip to the electrical room was a lot shorter than the trip to Admin, and Orange bounced off the wall as he approached. “You did it?” She asked, and when he nodded, continued with, “And Yellow didn’t see you?”

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ and grinned at Orange as he presented her the wallet. “You ready to get this done?”

“Ugh. No.” Orange pocketed the wallet and threw her helmeted head back as she groaned. “No. Fixing the wiring is the _worst_.”

“Ha!’ Cyan shook his head. “That’s nothing compared to Calibrating the Distributor!”

“Please. I’d rather do that any day than spend hours messing with those damn wires.” She paused, and then grinned wide enough that Cyan could see it through the visor. “We should totally swap tasks!”

“What?”

“You have to Calibrate, right? I need to do Wires. You don’t mind my task; I don’t mind yours. It’s pretty obvious what to do here.” 

Cyan shifted, bouncing foot from foot. “I suppose.” He had already swiped Orange’s card for her, and he _did_ hate calibrating the distributor. He hated it _almost_ as much as he hated refueling the engines. Ugh, that took _forever_.

“You suppose?” Orange asked. She rested a hand on her hip. “Swapping tasks isn’t going to kill us.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. “Alright.” He nodded. 

“Perfect!” Orange ducked into Electrical and made a beeline for the distributor. Cyan took one look at the spinning dials over her shoulder and immediately felt assured at his choice to swap. Just watching the spinning dials for a second made him feel dizzy. 

They finished their tasks at about the same time. Cyan checked the tasks he had left for the day and then the time. He could probably finish up within the next hour or so and then head to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys notice any inconsistencies or mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them! Thank you!!! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Lime stood over Blue’s body with a wicked long knife – too long to be a Utility knife, where did he get that?! – and then looked over at Orange and Cyan. The knife fell to the floor with a clatter.

“I can explain.” Lime’s voice shook. Cyan couldn’t think of what he could say to explain. Lime took a step towards them.

Orange bolted. But Cyan remained rooted to the spot, staring at the image of Lime drenched in Blue’s blood. It was everywhere, dripping from the walls and the ceiling. What the hell had Lime done?!

Blue’s body quivered from behind Lime, and Cyan’s gaze darted to it just in time to watch a gruesome black tentacle slipped out of the remnants of the body. A warning bubbled up in Cyan’s throat as he watched it stretch up until it was almost touching the ceiling. The end thinned into a point. 

He should say something; warn Lime. But… Lime had just _killed_ Blue. Didn’t Lime deserve to die for that? What had Blue done to deserve this? He hadn’t done anything, and Lime had just _killed him_. Lime didn’t deserve a warning.

The tentacle curved and then faster than Cyan could see, speared through Lime’s back and exploded out of his chest. Blood splattered across the walls and Cyan, practically steaming in the cold building. It was hot against Cyan, and when he inhaled, the cloyingly sweet scent of blood flooded his helmet. 

Lime fell to his knees, and the only thing keeping him up was the tentacle that was still impaled through him. Cyan moved on autopilot, walking forward until he was standing directly in front of Lime. 

Lime looked up at him, his helmet shattered enough that Cyan could see his mouth and the red that bubbled out of it. He gurgled something at Cyan, but his voice came through crystal clear in the air. 

_“Death is a kinder fate.”_

Cyan couldn’t help but to agree. His hands found a place on either side of Lime’s head and he—

Jolted awake in his bed in the Skeld-Class Frigate he had been reassigned to. His body _hurt_ , like he had decided to work out all day instead of doing his tasks. He couldn’t catch his breath, but his heartbeat – according to his tablet – was steady.

What the Stars was wrong with him?

He stumbled out of his bed, out of his room, and down the hallway to the bathroom. Splashing water on his face didn’t make him feel better. Neither did cupping the water and gulping from it. His mouth felt dry no matter how much he drank.

Maybe Purple was right. Maybe he should be more worried about his nightmares. But he’d been cleared for the mission. If something was wrong with him… Mira wouldn’t clear him for the mission, right? 

He trudged his way back to his room, and stood in the silence and darkness. Unease crept over him. His stomach twisted, but it wasn’t the painful kind of twist. No, it was a _hungry_ kind of twist. He wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed.

What the hell was wrong with him? How could he be _hungry_ after… He closed his eyes and shook his head. Lime stared at him from behind his eyelids, and okay. Enough of that. When he opened his eyes, the darkness seemed more oppressive, like it was leering at him. His skin _itched_. 

He needed out.

His stomach growled again, and Cyan took that as a sign. He was quiet as he made his way to the Cafeteria. Just because he was up, didn’t mean anyone else needed to be. The food dispenser allowed him to pick out a granola bar and a water bottle. He practically inhaled both.

His stomach cramped – probably from the speed in which he ate – and he turned around to leave when he noticed someone sitting at the far end of the Cafeteria near the window. He took a few cautious steps forward and then paused when he realized just _who_ he was looking at.

Red.

He hadn’t seen Red without his helmet before. It was on the floor near him, a small nearly perfect circle backlit by the galaxy outside.

He took a moment to look at Red. In the soft glow of the ‘night mode’ lights, he almost didn’t look human in how pretty he was. His eyes were dark enough to practically reflect the stars outside the cafeteria window. His dark hair – Red? Black? Cyan couldn’t tell – was messily pulled into ponytail with a few shorter strands framing his face, like he had rolled out of bed and put it up haphazardly. 

He probably had. After all, Red was almost never without his helmet. Who cared about anyone seeing one’s hair when it was always covered anyways?

He looked hauntingly familiar. Like Cyan had seen him before somewhere. It took him a moment, but he realized that he _had_ : the picture in Orange’s wallet. ~~~~

Stars. 

If he had though Red looked cute then… His stomach didn’t twist or knot so much as flutter, like he had eaten a thousand winged-bugs instead of a granola bar. 

A large part of Cyan screamed at him to go back to his bed. To not disturb Red. To keep his mouth shut despite the words that bubbled out of his chest into his throat and threatened to spill out. 

He didn’t want to be alone. Not after the nightmare he’d had. 

“Are you having trouble sleeping too, Red?”

Red’s head jerked up and to the side as he stared at where Cyan was standing. They locked eyes as they just _stared_ at each other. For a moment it looked like Red was going to say something, but then he abruptly looked way and down.

“I’m sorry.” Cyan took a step back. “I didn’t mean to bother—”

“It’s fine.” Stars. He had already thought Red’s voice was nice to hear, but hearing it unfiltered? Cyan could listen to it all day. 

Cyan wasn’t sure why his heart felt like it skipped a beat or two at the sound of Red’s voice. Or why his palms suddenly felt so sticky inside the gloves.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Red continued, like he had no idea the weird affect he was having on Cyan. Oh jeez, this was his crush on Black all over again. And his Crush on the Blue of his previous crew. And on that one hot Orange who liked to strip off the top half of his suit and show off his muscles as he worked. 

…Did he have a crush on Red? No, he couldn’t. He didn’t even know Red all that much beyond his appearance. Which, admittedly, Cyan had liked others for less. 

…Damn it.

“Nightmares.” Cyan squeaked out, his face flushing as he admitted that something as stupid as a nightmare had kept him up. Had pressed him to bother Red in what was clearly meant to be Red’s ‘alone time’.

“We all have them.” Red’s words were somehow more reassuring than Purple’s, despite the fact that he was telling Cyan basically the same thing. Movement drew Cyan’s gaze down to where Red’s hand had balled into a fist against his thigh. Clearly this was a tough topic for Red.

He should just excuse himself and back off to his room. He opened his mouth to say as much, but what came out instead was, “Purple says talking helps.”

Red’s gaze was fixed on the window, and Cyan couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by how well they reflected the galaxy outside. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You and Yellow don’t…”

“No. They think I _failed_. And you know what? They’re right. I… I did fail.” Cyan’s body moved on autopilot, without any conscious thought on his part. 

He kneeled on the floor behind Red and wrapped his arms around his fellow crewmate and pressed his face into Red’s shoulder. Red’s entire body went stiff before Cyan could even finish fully hugging him. But he had already committed, and to try to abort now would be just as awkward as if he continued.

One of Red’s hand’s unballed to reach up and wrap loosely around Cyan’s wrist. Cyan thought that this was it. Red would push away and yell at him. That he’d have to avoid Red from this point on. 

“Cyan.”

Except that didn’t happen. Red’s voice wasn’t a harsh shout, but a soft whisper; barely more than a breath. Red slowly relaxed. He leaned his head back and knocked it very gently against Cyan’s. They weren’t particularly close, and they didn’t really know each other. But somehow Cyan just _knew_ what Red was saying without him actually saying anything. 

Advice and words from countless other crewmates rattled around in Cyan’s head. Pep up talks about how one didn’t fail, they just experienced a ‘learning moment’. Or how it was through Failure that one Learns to Succeed. 

But even the thoughts felt wrong to Cyan. And if even the thoughts felt wrong, then he could only imagine how wrong they’d actually _taste_ on his tongue. 

Red tolerated the hug longer than Cyan thought he would – considering his expression in Orange’s photo – before he leaned forward away from Cyan. Cyan thought that was it, but then Red shifted, half turning to him. He was still primarily facing the window, but… he had opened himself up to Cyan.

“Did… you want to talk?” The words sounded… unsteady and uncertain. It was more endearing than it had any right to be.

Cyan shook his head. “Not yet.”

He thought of Lime on his knees before Cyan. Of his bloodstained hands on either side of Lime’s face. Of the crunch and crack and…

Maybe not ever. 

Red hummed, and wow. Without the helmet, it sounded even prettier. He wondered if Red ever sang. He bet it would sound amazing. “That’s fair.” Red fell silent for all of a moment before he cleared his throat. “You can.. stargaze with me. If you want.” 

Red’s gaze was very much not on Cyan, but on the stars outside. For any normal person, Cyan would probably decline. He would probably retreat back to his room – his lonely, lonely room with its murderous silence – and just stare at the walls.

But Red didn’t give him the feeling that his presence was _unwanted_. “Sure.” He leaned against Red’s side as he settled in to watch the stars passing them by.

Once more, Red tensed before slowly relaxing. After a while, he even wrapped an arm around Cyan. Cyan sighed, and when he blinked, he realized he was moving. Strong arms were under his legs and chest, and oh. That was a steady heartbeat in his ear. 

He kept his eyes closed, unwanting and unwilling to open them and see if this was a dream or reality. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

“What are you doing?” He heard what sounded like Black hiss. Movement came to a stop. The hold on him shifted, suddenly feeling more… protective and secure. 

“He fell asleep watching the stars.” Cyan wouldn’t claim to know Red’s tones but that sounded rather… hostile. “I’m putting him to bed.” Movement returned.

“I don’t trust you.” Black said.

“The feeling’s mutual.” There was a hiss of a door closing and then Cyan was put down gently into the bed. The sheet was pulled up over him, and he thought he felt Red’s fingers brush against his face as he moved some hair back. “Sleep well, Cyan.” Red whispered. 

And then he blinked again and the lights were brightening to ‘day’ mode. They flickered twice ominously. That was odd… hadn’t Orange fixed the issue with the distributor? Cyan sighed to himself, seemed like he was going to get stuck with that task after all. Especially since Yellow was probably going to chew him out about not actually doing it.

Wait. 

He had finished his tasks and then gone to bed. And woken up because… he was hungry? No, maybe it was nightmare. His head felt fuzzy, but he _knew_ that he ended up stargazing with Red. So how was he in his…

The vague memory of being carried and put to bed hit him, and he almost fell out of the bed in his resulting embarrassed fumbling. _He_ had _fallen asleep_ against _Red_ , his _crush_ , and then _Red_ carried him and put _him_ to bed. 

Lime was right. Death was a kinder fate than this. Cyan couldn’t leave his room! He couldn’t face Red! What if he sleep-talked? What if he said or did something stupid? What if he _drooled_ or _snored_ or _farted_?!

How could he face Red?

His heart raced as he paced the tiny length of his room. That was it! He _wouldn’t_ face Red. It wasn’t like he saw Red much anyways! If he actively tried to avoid Red, then he’d be fine! He just had to do that for… oh the rest of time eternal.

So not that long at all!!!

His plan made, he grabbed his supplies for the bathroom, and marched out of his room straight into Red. Oh Stars.

“Sleep well?” Red asked, and oh. Oh no. There was definitely a teasing tone in there. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Cyan.exe stopped working. Please call Mira Tech Support for assistance.

“Red!” Orange called out from the end of the hallway. “Black’s bugging everyone about where you at.”

“Course he is.” Red muttered before calling out, “I’ll be right there.” Down the hallway, Orange nodded and then disappeared around the corner. Red looked back down at Cyan and through the visor, Cyan could see what looked like a curve of a smile.

Stars, Cyan wanted to see what that looked like without the helmet. His heart hurt just _thinking about it_. “Thank you.” 

…Cyan was going to die on this mission. Not from Impostors, oh no. He was going to die because Red was going to absolutely murder him. In all the best and worst ways.

Thankfully, Red didn’t wait for a response. He took a few steps in the direction Orange had been in before pausing and looking back at Cyan. “Oh! Pink turned the pancakes into ‘celebration’ pancakes to celebrate our official first week competition. I’d avoid them.” And then he was gone, marching down the hallway at _almost_ a jog. 

Probably so he didn’t get chewed out too badly by Black.

“Woooow.” Green blew a bubble and popped it, startling Cyan enough for him to almost drop what he’d been holding. “That was painful to watch.” Cyan stared at Green with what he imagined was probably the look someone had before almost getting ran over by a cart.

“What was?” Brown asked as she peered out of Green’s room, wearing nothing but an extra large fluffy brown towel wrapped around herself like a dress. Her damp brown hair was braided over her shoulder. 

“Uh, um, errr, well, I…”

Green popped another bubble and grinned. “Cyan’s got a massive crush on Red.”

“I DO NOT!” Cyan very nearly shrieked. He was pretty sure his face was as red as Red’s suit. It felt hot enough. 

“Aw!” Brown cooed. “That’s adorable!” 

“Sure.” Cyan wasn’t sure there was a way to make that word sound any more deadpan than Green managed just now. “The drama will be fun to watch.”

“Drama?” Cyan repeated. His voice was still a bit shrill and squeaky. Black used to say that he sounded like a hamster when embarrassed. He hoped he never found out that Cyan _still_ sounded like that. 

Brown hummed, the sparkle that had been in her eyes dimming. “Oh damn. You’re right.”

“Orange.” Green said. 

“Black.” Brown disagreed with a quick shake of her head. “And don’t forget White. She’s been eyeing Red too.”

Cyan felt like he was missing a couple pages of the instruction manual. What did Green, Black, and White have to do with ‘drama’ with him and Red? Not that there was a ‘him and Red’. It was just a ‘him’ and ‘Red’. Separate. 

Not together. They weren’t together. 

And even if they were – which they weren’t – why would Red want to be with Cyan anyways? They just had their kinda first conversation last night, and Cyan _fell asleep_ on him, and then Red _carried him to bed_.

And oh. Oh, stars. Red **_carried_** him. Like, Cyan knew he was short and thin but… to be able to _carry_ him? How _strong_ was Red?! 

Cyan really needed to find someone who could repair Crewmates, because he really, really felt like he was about to short circuit.

“Poor guy’s got some competition.” Green continued to _grin_ down at him, and it _finally_ clicked.

“Orange is just his friend!” He protested. “Not that it matters. I mean, I don’t have a crush on Red.” He laughed nervously. 

He totally did. He was such a sap and a fool. He didn’t even _know_ Red. What the hell was he doing getting a crush on him?

“Oh.” Brown leaned against Green and rested her chin on Green’s shoulder. “This **_is_** painful.”

“Told ya.” Green looked way too smug. “Have you even seen what he looks like?”

Stars in dark eyes. Dark hair framing Red’s face and pulled back into a messy ponytail. A jawline that made Cyan want to cry. Oh yeah, Cyan knew what he looked like.

He could tell them about last night. About stargazing with Red and seeing the stars in his eyes and… no. The moment he had shared with Red last night had been too private. Too special. Cyan wouldn’t share that.

“Orange has a picture.” He said instead. It was, in hindsight, probably not the best thing to say either.

Green’s eyes _lit_ up like the navigation control panel. “Orange has a _picture_?” She repeated with a sly smug grin that only seemed to grow the longer Cyan let her question hang. 

He knew what she was implying. He did. Orange had a picture of Red, and usually Crewmates only kept pictures of their loved ones with them. If Orange had a picture of Red, then what did that mean for their relationship?

Cyan felt his heart plummet. Green was right. Red and Orange were probably a thing, or at least a past thing. And now that they were on the same crew again, surely they’d pick up where they left off? And even if they didn’t…

Why would Red be interested in Cyan anyways? He was just an engineer. 

“I’m… gonna go.” Cyan sidled past them and then darted to the bathroom. His ears rushed with the sound of Green’s laughter. 

“You’re the worst!” Brown chided Green as the door slid shut.


	4. Chapter 4

Cyan wished he could say that his encounters with Red had ended after that one time. He wished he could say that he stuck to his plan to avoid Red for the rest of his life. He wished he could say that he hadn’t been fueling his crush.

For him to claim otherwise would be a lie, on all counts.

But here he was, sitting on one of the tables in the darkened Cafeteria, munching on a granola bar, playing a game with Red. It had become something of a routine after the third time Cyan had stumbled into the cafeteria after a nightmare. 

Even though he knew Red and Orange were probably a thing. Or were going to be a thing. It would hurt more for him in the end if he continued this stupid little crush on Red. But… It was nice. Especially after the nightmares, to just come out here and spend time with Red.

Sometimes they just sat there quietly, watching the stars until Cyan started to doze. And other times, Cyan passed the time with little games. 

“Would you rather have the ability to see 10 minutes into the future or 150 years into the future?”

The cafeteria echoed with the sound of the tip of Cyan’s shoe hitting the floor or the table leg as he swung them idly. Red hummed after a moment before replying, “10 minutes.” 

“Mm, yeah. I suppose that’d be more helpful for you with your tasks.” Cyan mused. He finished off his bar and leaned back on the table he was sitting on. “I can’t see the 150-year thing much use for a person.”

Red snorted. 

With probably any of the other crewmates – except Purple – Cyan would be a bit more self-conscious by that response. But this was Red and after nearly two weeks of this happening every night, Cyan liked to think that he had a pretty firm grasp on understanding his fellow crewmate.

Red wasn’t typically one for many words, but that was fine. Cyan could fill the air with enough noise for two, and unlike Crewmates of the past, Red didn’t seem to mind the chatter.

“Would you rather… hmmm.” Cyan hummed, tilting his head to stare up at the ceiling as he tried to think of another question to ask. “Lose your sight or your memories?”

Red arched an eyebrow. Cyan made a note to check on the distributor levels next time he went to Electrical. The ‘night’ lights seemed brighter than they should be lately. Maybe a problem of the distributor distributing too much electricity into the lights? Or maybe too much into the cafeteria?

“Existing memories or future memories too?”

“Um.. existing.”

“Memories.” Red replied with no hesitation. 

Cyan rubbed the back of his head and laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. Um, we probably all have memories we’d prefer to forget.” He looked back down and felt his face heat up when he realized that Red was _watching_ him. Red met his gaze, and Cyan mentally fumbled. “Uhm, would you rather—”

“Talk about your memories you’d rather forget or your nightmares?” Red finished. 

Cyan’s mouth dropped a little and he blinked in surprise. Red didn’t participate in Cyan’s little games. Not like this. He would answer questions, but not once had Red ever _asked_ him one.

There was the option to skip, but Red had never used it.. and what would it say about Cyan to skip the _one_ question that Red asked. The _first_ question Red asked. His heart clenched as everything emotional in him wanted to twist this into Red somehow liking him.

Cyan licked his lips, his mouth suddenly even drier than before. Red’s gaze was heavy and dark on him and it made Cyan want to squirm in more ways than just one. 

“You don’t have to answer.” 

But Cyan did have to answer. He couldn’t ignore Red’s first – and only – question in the game. What if Red never asked another question because of it?

And it wasn’t like there was even a competition or a debate on the answer. The memories were bad. Horrible, really. But the nightmares? Oh, those were so much worse if only because of what they _implied_ about how he thought and felt. 

“Memories.” Cyan whispered. 

Red’s expressions didn’t change much – he had a killer card face – but there was a change. Something akin to _understanding_ rippled across his features, and Cyan felt his heart positively lurch at the thought that this was something they shared in common. 

That this was something that they both understood.

That sometimes the nightmares were worse than the memories that they were based on. That sometimes it wasn’t even just that the nightmares were worse, but it was the ideas behind them that were so much more sinister.

Cyan would never want to hurt Lime like he did in his nightmares. Would never want to snap his neck or watch him be impaled or torn apart or _eaten_. But some small part of him _must have_ if those were the direction his nightmares were taking.

If Cyan’s nightmares were this terrible, then what were Red’s like?

Red looked away first. His gaze cut to the stars outside, and he cleared his throat. “Would you rather… spend a day with Green or Yellow?” 

Neither. Cyan would much rather spend the day with Red or Purple, or heck, even Black or Pink. Maybe even Orange. She could maybe tell him stories of her childhood – which wasn’t a thinly veiled excuse to hear about Red when he was younger. 

But to spend the day with Red, watching space pass through the window and just talking? That sounded nice.

“Yellow.” Cyan answered. “Green’s a bully.” 

Red’s gaze cut so quickly from the stars to Cyan that Cyan was almost worried that he’d get dizzy or whiplash. 

“Is she?” He asked, and there was something different about Red’s voice – and it wasn’t just the undertones of anger – that sent chills down Cyan’s spine in ways that both scared and excited him. He fidgeted under Red’s stare. 

“Its not that bad.” Cyan blurted out. “She just teases me.” ‘ _About my crush on you’_ went without saying. Red couldn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t want to share these light night talks anymore. “It’s fine, really, Red.”

Alarms were blaring in his head, growing louder and louder the longer that Red’s silence continued. He didn’t know why he felt like he absolutely _had_ to defend Green. Like If he didn’t, something would _happen_.

But that was ridiculous! 

Red wasn’t an Impostor, and even if he was, he wouldn’t go after Green just because she was picking on Cyan. Cyan wasn’t worth killing over. Not that it mattered. Red wasn’t an Impostor.

He couldn’t be. 

“I mean it, Red. It’s just harmless teasing.” 

Because it was. 

Yes, it sucked to have Green mention about how she saw Orange with Red alone in the Security Room. Or to hear her wonder aloud if Black’s suspicions on Red were a manifestation of sexual tension. Or about how White had been eyeing Red and Black both, and _‘wow, I wonder if they have threesomes in that security office? Would the desk even support that?’_

It sucked, but she didn’t mean anything more than to just rile up Cyan because his face looked _‘adorable all red like that, and oh, Stars, you’re actually thinking about them having a threesome now, aren’t you!?’_

“If you say so.” Red’s voice still had that strange quality to it, but it sounded more… normal. He returned to looking at the window, and Cyan let out a short sharp sigh of relief as tension leaked out of his body. “But you’d let me know if it became worse… right?”

“Of course!”

“Good.” 

Emotion pooled, hot and warm, in Cyan’s gut at the word. He felt like he just chugged a warm drink full of glee, surprise, appreciation, satisfaction, and so much more. He tried to tell himself _not_ to think too deeply into it.

Red worked Security ~~– don’t think about Green’s words, don’t think about what the desk in there could be used for –~~ so of course he wanted to be told of any potential conflicts within the Crewmates. It was only for strictly professional reasons that Red wanted to know if Green was bullying Cyan. 

But for as much as he told himself that, it didn’t seem to want to sink in. 

Instead, he had intrusive emotional thoughts about how Red _cared about him_ , and that was why Red had gotten so upset when he thought Cyan was being given a hard time. That was why Red had wanted to know if it got worse.

And oh, how Cyan _wanted_ it to be true. 

But it wasn’t.

Cyan looked down at his lap and sighed to himself. “Thanks, Red.” 

“For what?”

“For looking out for me. I mean, I know it’s because of your Tasks, but—”

“Is that what you think?” Red interrupted him. “That I’m only concerned because it’s my Task as Security?”

Cyan looked up and was startled to realize Red had gotten up and was suddenly standing before Cyan. When had he moved? Had Cyan been so engrossed in his thoughts that he just hadn’t heard him walk? Then again, Security were trained to walk quietly as to not give away their position on the ship.

He should answer Red. Say something. Explain himself – except, what was there to explain? That was why Red was concerned, right? There wasn’t any other explanation that Cyan dared – hoped – to imagine.

This close to Red, the emotions in his eyes was easier to read. Disappointment, bitterness, upset. But Why would Red feel any of that? Why would he be saying what he was saying unless…?

“Red.” Cyan whispered.

He shouldn’t have done that. The silence was as broken as the moment. Red took a step back and looked away. His mouth twisted like he was tasting something he didn’t like. “I overspoke. I’m sorry.”

No. Cyan wanted to scream. Red hadn’t over spoke at all. If anything, he didn’t speak enough. 

Red continued to step away, except not just physically. It was in his body posture, his eyes, his mouth, his everything. Red was going to box himself back up, put walls between them because he thought he overspoke. Whatever the Stars that meant. 

No.

Red continued, and Cyan reached out, practically falling off the table to his feet to grab Red’s hand and keep him from fully retreating. Red’s eyes widened; his jaw slackened in surprise. His entire body seemed to jolt. Cyan didn’t let go of his hand, if anything he held it tighter.

“If it wasn’t for your tasks, then why?” The words bubbled out of Cyan’s mouth before he could even think of what to say. 

Red’s lips parted once, twice, and then he swallowed. “Because we’re friends.” Red wasn’t meeting his gaze. He was looking over Cyan’s shoulder, and he was _lying_ ; why was he lying? What was there to lie about unless he didn’t actually see Cyan as a friend.

But then why? Why had Red been concerned? Why was Red acting so strange? 

All the emotions Cyan felt were so hot they felt like they were burning. He felt simultaneously too hot and too cold at the same time. He felt too full, like he was going to burst. 

He let go of Red’s hand and gave him one of the smiles he often gave Purple when he insisted he was fine. It didn’t seem to have the same reassuring affect on Red that it did on Purple. Cyan wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He was almost afraid to open his mouth out of fear that some ugly and horrible manifestation of his feelings spilled out. But he needed to say something. 

“Of course we are!” Cyan tried to chirp. 

If he called Red out on his _lie_ , he’d think they weren’t friends. And they were friends. At least, Cyan liked to think that they were. 

~~But he wanted to be more than friends. He wanted to feel Red’s lips against his own, feel Red’s skin under his hands. He wanted to make Red laugh and smile. He wanted them to always be crewmates because Mira never split up partners unless it was really necessary.~~

“…of course.” Red agreed. He was searching for something in Cyan, but Cyan didn’t know what it was. Didn’t know what to give Red, or what to say or do. After a moment, Red turned away. 

The bitter disappointment at not knowing if Red found what he had been looking for was thick on Cyan’s tongue. His watch beeped at him, reminding him that, “We should head to bed.”

He turned around to grab his trash, and then headed over to the chute to throw it all way. Red waited by the doorway and the walk back to their sleeping quarters was a miserable and quiet one.

Cyan hated it.

He stopped outside his door and hit the sensor to open it. “Goodnight, Red.”

“Cyan, wait.” He half turned, still in the doorway to look at Red. Red stepped closer until he could hold Cyan’s hand. “ _I lied._ ” All the feelings Cyan had been feeling through the night welled up within him. His eyes burned, like he was trying to cry but couldn’t.

Red was going to come clean. They weren’t friends. Cyan had overstepped boundaries, like he usually did. Too bubbly, too chatty, too much. He had heard it all.

“I wasn’t concerned just because we’re friends, but because I care about you.”

_‘I care about you’._ Stars, how was Cyan suppose to continue functioning when Red told him something like that? 

“Oh.” He breathed, and Red was closer. One hand was still holding Cyan’s, but the other was cupping Cyan’s face. Red’s thumb stoked his cheekbone so gently and fervently. Red’s eyes were so dark, Cyan felt like he could literally fall into a pool of them. 

He imagined it would be like spinning aimlessly in space after being ejected, just waiting for the end. But this end would be with Red, and that was suddenly so very much okay. 

He wouldn’t mind falling into a pool of Red. Wouldn’t mind drowning in it. 

“Tell me no.” Red whispered. He was leaning down, close enough to Cyan that he could feel his body heat even through the suits. His eyes were dark and wide and swallowing Cyan. “Tell me no,” Red repeated, “And I’ll go. We’ll never talk of this again and—”

It didn’t take much to interrupt Red. All he had to do was practically lean up and over just the smallest amount, just tilt his head, and… they were kissing. Red didn’t waste a moment, returning the kiss and taking control.

Cyan let him. Let him control and dominate the kiss. He let Red push him until his back hit the doorframe. Red’s body enclosed him, trapped between the frame and Red, and it was _everything Cyan had wanted_.

Cyan’s free hand, the one not holding Red’s, reached up and slid into Red’s hair. The ponytail was always loose, so his fingers slid easily through the strands. He tugged, and the _noise_ Red made at that would have left Cyan breathless if Red wasn’t already kissing him there.

Red broke off the kiss just long enough for Cyan to take a breath, and then he was back. His tongue slipped inside Cyan’s mouth, and some part of Cyan’s brain was giving off alarm bells because it wasn’t _right_. Too dexterous, too strong, too long, too… Red nipped at Cyan’s lip and the alarm bells fell silent in the wake of how _good_ this all felt.

Red wasn’t holding his hand anymore, but Cyan’s hip. And now his brain was sounding different alarms because while this was everything Cyan wanted, it was too much too fast. He felt like he was going to explode, he couldn’t’ breath, he couldn’t…

Red backed off. He was still boxing Cyan in; his hand was still on Cyan’s hip and the one that had been cupping his face was on the back of Cyan’s neck, long fingers curling into Cyan’s hair. But he wasn’t pressing, wasn’t pushing. 

Cyan panted, breathless and leaned his head back against the frame.

He didn’t miss how Red’s gaze cut to the expanse of his throat with a look akin to _hunger_ before darting back up to meet Cyan’s. 

“We’re doing _that_ again.” Cyan said, once he felt like he could speak coherent words. 

Red’s face cracked. That perfect card face that was all Cyan had ever seen shattered as Red smiled and _chuckled_ , and oh. Cyan wanted a picture of that. But first.

He looped his now free arm around Red’s shoulder, and tugged him into another kiss. Red went willingly. The hand on Cyan’s hip tightened its grip, but he didn’t make any movement to press more than Cyan was ready and willing to give.

Very briefly his mind flashed to the _hunger_ that had been in Red’s gaze just seconds ago. His body shivered and shuddered of it’s own accord. 

“Fuck.” Red pressed a kiss to the corner of Cyan’s mouth. “I could just _eat. you. up_.” Each word was punctuated with a nip or kiss along Cyan’s jaw line, and Cyan let out an embarrassing whine when Red tugged on his earlobe.

Was it just Cyan being hyper sensitive, or were Red’s teeth somehow _sharper_? The grip on his hip was certainly stronger, _almost_ painful now. But still oh, so _good._ Cyan _wanted_ , no _needed_ this. Needed Red to push and press and just be _there_ , kissing and biting and nipping and tugging and…

Red pulled away again, and Cyan realized a bit belatedly, that the day lights were starting to turn on. Stars, he had a shift soon.

“Your shift will start soon. You should get what rest you can.” Red said. 

Cyan wanted to be mad about it. Wanted to whine and complain and pull Red in for another kiss. He didn’t. Instead he pouted – and he didn’t miss the way Red’s eyes dilated at that, either – and nodded. “Fine.”

Red chuckled again, and when he moved to pull back, Cyan let him.

It… hurt, strangely. Like a part of him was being ripped away with Red. He wanted to chase after him, to press himself closer and closer. The closest thing to describe the way he felt was _hunger_ , and that both scared and excited Cyan.

He watched Red as he disappeared into his room, and only then did Cyan pinch himself to see if he was dreaming. 

He wasn’t.

Any tiredness he’d been feeling had melted away and been replaced with pure liquid energy. He felt like he could take the world on and survive. He felt like he completed all the Tasks possible. He felt like…

He felt like a guy who’d just gotten a few mind-blowing kisses from his crush.

He ducked into his bedroom, grabbed his pillow and squealed into it for a good long moment. Long enough that his lungs burned with the need to breath and his face felt numb from being smothered. Then he just sat on his bed for another long good moment, replaying the events over and over in his head.

He and Red kissed. No. That wasn’t just kissing. They had _made out_ , and Red _cared for him_. 

He squealed into his pillow again.

His watch beeped at him that it was time to wake up. Right. Work. He had work to get done today. Stuff to do, Tasks to finish. Maybe even a Red to kiss later, in the Cafeteria. With a backdrop of stars.

He grabbed the essentials from his room, hit up the bathroom, and then practically skipped to the cafeteria. By the time he made it to the cafeteria; Pink, White, Black and Yellow were all up and in various states of getting their breakfast.

White and Black were sharing a salad as they talked about whatever happened while White was on camera duty. Yellow was making a face at the smoothie coming out of the dispenser, and Pink…

Pink was adding glitter to his pancakes as he celebrated another successful week.

…no one would be touching those.

Cyan got some cereal out of the dispenser, just as Brown and Green stumbled into the cafeteria. Neither of them looked away yet, although Green perked up when she noticed Cyan.

“You’re here early.” She commented.

“He and Red were out later than usual.” The noise in the cafeteria fell significantly at White’s comment. “You did get some sleep last night, right?” White continued, looking at Cyan. “I know Red apparently functions off little to no sleep, but not all of us are so lucky.”

“I’m fine.” Cyan squeaked. 

“Wait. What’s this about him and Red?” Pink asked. Green’s mouth snapped shut, and she shot Pink a look. Black looked irritated. Cyan thought to the conversation he had shared with Green and Brown, where they thought that Black, Orange, and White were all interested in Red as well as Cyan.

Well, if they were, there were in for some disappointment. The thought sat happy and harm in Cyan’s gut. 

White leaned back in her chair until it was standing on only two legs. “Red and Cyan hang out after hours in the Café.”

“And you didn’t report this because?” Black asked. 

White shrugged. “It didn’t seem like a problem.” She turned her head and blinked at Black. “I know you’ve ran into Red carrying Cyan back to his room at least once.”

“He what?” Pink’s pancakes were forgotten, and why wouldn’t they when there was something as juicy as the possibility of Red and Cyan’s relationship being dangled in front of him. Pink turned to look at Cyan and he could practically imagine the heart shape in Pink’s eyes. “Did he really?”

Cyan shuffled in spot. “Um, yes? I fell asleep.”

“How long has this been going on?” Black asked. His gaze was… hard as he looked at Cyan.

“Leave ‘em alone, Black. It’s been happening practically every night for the past couple weeks. It’s no big deal.”

Pink squealed, Black frowned, and Green and Brown exchanged looks. Cyan felt like White’s proclamation of it not being a big deal was maybe a little bit off the mark. It certainly seemed like it was a big deal.

“No big deal?” Pink continued to squeal, echoing Cyan’s thoughts. “This is so exciting! What if they get together? What if we get to witness their love unfold and blossom and, and, and then they get married and then—”

“It’s not like that!” Cyan blurted out, even though it really was kind of like that. Maybe not the marriage part. Cyan wasn’t sure. He’d been with other crewmates before, and none of them had felt like what he had with Red, but that didn’t _mean_ anything.

“What’s going on?” Purple and… oh. Oh no. Orange, walked into the cafeteria. Cyan shot a panicked look at Pink. 

“Red and Cyan are having late night rendezvouses in the Cafeteria.” Pink practically sang. This was it. Orange was going to find out that her chances to get with Red were ruined, and she was going to hate Cyan and…

“Oh, awesome!” Orange grinned at him and walked over to him. She held up her hand for a high-five. “It’s about damn time he found someone. I was beginning to think he was just going to be a loner for the rest of his life.”

Dumbfounded, Cyan returned the high-five. 

Purple didn’t seem to be taking the news as well as the others. They frowned. “When have you been sleeping, Cyan?”

“That’s what I was worried about.” White said. “The two of them were up later than normal.”

“Umm…”

“It looked like things were tense between you two walking back. Did you guys have a fight?” White continued to press.

Cyan didn’t want to, didn’t mean to; but his mind immediately went to the events outside his room. He flushed. Orange looked down at him and her eyes practically sparkled as understanding dawned on her. 

“Oh, leave him be, White.” She said, stepping carefully so she was somewhat blocking Cyan – and his reactions – from the others. “Lets just get our breakfast and get to Tasking.” She looked over at Cyan. “I checked our schedules last night. I got a Task in Electrical, did you want to come with?”

“Yeah, I have to add a Task in Electrical anyways.” Cyan said, happy for the distraction. “I noticed the ‘night’ lights fluctuating.”

Orange wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, stupid distributor.” Okay, _this_ , this was something Cyan could manage. This was normal. “I’ve got to divert power to Communications.”

“Yeah.” Pink has returned to his pancakes and was stabbing them with the spork while he stared at Cyan. “I’ve only been asking for like a week now.”

“We have a lot of tasks to get done. Give me a break.” Orange snapped.

“Enough.” Yellow put their smoothie down on the table with a noise that made the cafeteria fall silent. “Pink, rerouting electricity to the communications room was deemed less important than some of the other life-sustaining tasks on this ship. There are a lot of tasks that need to get done, but they all will get done.”

Pink, properly chastened, hunched in on himself. Orange sneered at him, but that sneer fell off as Yellow turned their attention to her. “And as for you… don’t wait all day to get the task done. First thing after breakfast.”

“But—” Orange went to protest. Yellow shot them a look, and Orange’s mouth snapped shut. “Yes, Admin.”

Yellow smiled, it was not friendly. “Good.”

After breakfast, Cyan walked Orange both stopped by Admin to swipe their cards, before Cyan walked with Orange down to Electrical.

“So pretentious.” Orange grumbled to herself.

“Pink or Yellow?”

“Both!” She threw up both of her hands. They weaved around the wire racks in electric until reaching the back where all the switches and boxes were. “Ugh. But enough about them.” She grinned at Cyan. “You and Red, huh?”

Cyan flushed and hoped the dim lights of the electric room would hide it. It didn’t if the way Orange’s grin grew meant anything. “It’s not like that.” Cyan repeated his protest from breakfast.

“It’s not like that he says.” Orange shoulder checked him. “Please, your lips were a little swollen at breakfast, and it’s not like you let anyone close enough besides me to see, but your jawline’s a little,” She paused and smirked, “ _red_.”

Cyan whined and pressed his face into his hands as Orange laughed. 

Since they hadn’t had an emergency yet in the weeks that they’d been here, Black had eased off on the rules about wearing helmets. And now Cyan was wishing, very desperately, that he had worn his.

“He’s a good kisser, ain’t he?”

“Shut up.” Cyan whined into his hands. 

“That tongue of his was talented. Probably one of the things I miss most about him.” Well, at least now Cyan knew that Red’s tongue was just _like that_. Good to know, he guessed. Now he could go and perish from his embarrassment. 

“Orange!”

She continued to laugh. “Alright, alright. I’m done. I gotta run over to Communications and provide Princess Pink his precious electricity anyways.” She paused. “You gonna be good here alone, or you want me to stay with?”

So she could continue to tease him about Red? No way!

“You’re good.” He squeaked.

“Stars, you’re just as adorable embarrassed as Black said.”

…No. Would his embarrassment today never end?! 

“I hate you all.” He declared. 

“Not Red.” Orange grinned. She paused at the door, and her eyes were practically glittering. “Or his tongue.” She ducked through the door just as the Cyan threw his water bottle. It bounced off the wall next to the door, and the sound it made echoed along with Orange’s laughter.

Cyan grumbled to himself as he opened up the power Distributor and worked on calibrating it. If it reset Orange’s work, then he’d just redo it himself later. Or maybe make her do it again as punishment for all the teasing.

He finished long after his watch had beeped for lunch, but it was close enough to dinner that he decided to just wait it out. He only had a few tasks on his list now – Yellow must have taken some off – and he could probably finish them by the time dinner rolled around.

He packed up his tools, looked about his space with a critical eye to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, and then headed out. 

He needed to clean out the O2 filters and fix some wiring in Storage, Navigation, and Weapons. Well, didn’t that just make the perfect little path for him?

He could fix the wires in Storage, pass through the cafeteria and then hit up weapons. Clean the O2 filters, and then hit Navigation’s wire panel and Boom! He was done.

Fixing the wires in Storage didn’t take long. Black was working on clearing asteroids when Cyan approached Weapons. He watched for a few moments before Black noticed him. 

“Need something?”

“To fix some wires.” 

Black’s only response was to grunt as he continued blasting asteroids. Cyan hesitated for a few more moments before moving on. He hesitated outside of O2 when he saw Green in there. She was checking around the tanks, making notes on her tablet. He could probably shelf this task for later too.

“Aren’t you going to clean the filters?” She asked without looking up from her tablet as he moved to step away.

“Um. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She looked up, finally, and blinked at him. “Bullshit. You just don’t want me to tease you about Red.” Cyan flushed, and she grinned. It was not as friendly as Orange’s. “I knew it.”

“It’s not like that.” Cyan mumbled. He didn’t know why he bothered protesting. He was stuck on a ship with only nine other people. Of course, they were going to find out about him and Red. 

Green gave him a look and he sighed. “Fine. Yes, we kissed. Are you happy?” He marched past her and started to clean out the filter.

“Happy?” Green repeated. “Hardly. I bet tasks with Brown that he’d get with Black. The tension between them could be cut with a knife. She thought you’d catch his attention instead.” She rolled her eyes. “Something about height difference and you being a cute little twink. I don’t know.” 

Height difference, huh? Cyan thought about the way Red leaned over him, boxing him in, and… oh. Oh yeah, he could get behind that idea. 

“Gross.” Cyan looked over his shoulder to see her wrinkled her nose. “Now you’re going to be all…” She waved her hand at him. “…that.”

“What?”

“Lovesick.” She spat out. “It’s gross. Knock it off.”

Cyan furrowed his brows. “But I wasn’t doing anything?”

“Exactly!” She waved her hands at him again. “You’re so lovesick you _don’t do anything_. Too busy thinking about Red to do your tasks. UGH, we’re never going to leave this damn ship.”

It was at that point that Cyan’s stomach let out a very loud protest at having missed lunch. He grimaced. “Actually, I was distracted by _that_.”

“Didn’t you eat?” Green asked.

“Didn’t have time.”

“…You’re as bad as Red. How the hell he functions, I’ll never know.” She shook her head, then stepped away from the Oxygen tanks. She stretched and then checked her watch. “What other tasks do you have? We can head to the Cafeteria early.”

That was… surprisingly nice for Green. 

Cyan opened his mouth to reply when a scream echoed through the ship.


	5. Chapter 5

Cyan’s heart raced as he ran with Brown towards the source of the scream. He heard Black coming up from behind them and pressed himself close to the side of the hallway just in time for Black to barrel past.

They caught back up to him outside the Communication room. Yellow was curled up on the floor across from the door, sobbing hysterically. It was the most emotional Cyan had ever seen them. Black stood in the doorway, and Cyan could see through the suit that his body was tense.

“Oh, fuck.” Green said. Her gaze was trained on whatever she was seeing past Black, but her arm reached out to blindly grope for Cyan. When she found him, she tried to push him behind her. 

“What happened?” Cyan asked, pushing her away. He had a feeling, a sinking horrible feeling but he hoped he was wrong. He ducked around Black and…

_Lime was standing over Blue’s body. Blood dripped down from the ceiling and walls, and in Lime’s hand was a knife and…_ there was blood everywhere.

It was smeared on the communication devices, and on the walls, and there was a clear trail on the floor where Pink – oh Stars, Pink – had tried to drag himself towards the door. His hand was outstretched, like he was asking for help.

But there was no helping him. Not anymore.

The scent of blood was thick in the air, filling his lungs with every inhale, and fuck, of course there was. There was _so much blood_. How did a body have so much blood? How many of his friends did he have to see like this? First Blue and now Pink, and…

His stomach cramped, pain lancing up through his nerves and body. His body was shaking. No, it wasn’t, someone was shaking him.

“Get him out of here.” Someone demanded. Cyan took a step – forward, backward? He wasn’t sure – and the room swam before his eyes. 

Blood from the ceiling fell and landed in the puddle of ~~what remained of Blue~~ Pink’s blood, and he swore he could hear the splash through the cries and shouts and voices. Someone wrenched his arm, tugging him out of the way, and it was Red, and he was being pushed away into someone else’s hands and the world was spinning.

Why was the world spinning? Was the ship going down? His stomach cramped again, and he blinked and…

“I’m worried about him.” Purple? “Last time, the stress of dealing with an Impostor situation made him physically ill.” His mouth felt too dry, the air tasted and smelled too sterile.

Medbay?

“He was sick before?” Warmth swam in his gut. Red was here? And he sounded worried. 

“Yeah. It was just stress. No one... he was the only one left to clean the body and we were worried about chemical—”

“You let him clean that up by himself?” Red interrupted. “What the fuck?”

“The body was basically dissolving, and we were worried that chemicals were involved!” Purple shouted. Purple _never_ raised their voice. Why were they raising their voice at Red? Cyan groaned and everything went silent.

His stomach cramped again, and he flinched, trying to curl in on himself. “Cyan?” Purple and then Purple was looking down at him. He couldn’t think of the last time he saw Purple look so frazzled. They had opted to wear their glasses today. They were askew and half slipped down their nose.

Even their normally gelled back hair was in disarray, like they had been repeatedly running their hand through it.

“How are you feeling?” He heard Purple ask, but the words didn’t make sense in his head. His thoughts were fuzzy and formless. The only things he seemed to be able to focus on was hos dry his mouth felt and the way his stomach kept twisting and churning like he was _starving_.

“Cyan?” Red’s voice cut through the haze, and Cyan turned his head to see Red squatting by the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

These words – practically the same, his brain screamed – seemed to make more sense. He blinked, and tried to process through the words. There were plenty of answers, Cyan realized. Confused, tired, scared… but what came out instead was “ _Hungry_.” Through the mask, he could see Red’s mouth dip into a sharp frown. The grip on his hand – Red was holding his hand – tightened. 

“Green said he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.” Purple said. “And I don’t think he got much sleep last night. I… heard he was with you until late last night. I was going to speak to him about it after dinner.” As if summoned by the word, Cyan’s stomach growled. “Red, could you please get some dinner from the dispenser for him? I know Black only wants meals in the Cafeteria but—”

“I’ll deal with Black.” Red growled, and maybe it was Cyan’s imagination, but it sounded… not quite human. Purple didn’t seem to notice. 

“Thank you, Red.” 

Red squeezed his hand again, and then let go. He heard the beep of a security check and then the swish of doors. Why wasn’t the door to medbay open? The only time it was closed like that was if they were… “We’re in lockdown?” Cyan asked. 

His mind raced, and the thoughts felt like they were out of his control. He couldn’t help but to think how _stupid_ Purple was. To be left alone in a room with only one other person in. How did Purple know that Cyan wasn’t the Impostor?

All Cyan would need is to just reach out and… it wouldn’t be that hard. He’d done it to Lime enough times in his dreams. It was just a neck.

Cyan squeezed his eyes shut and whispered to his brain to ‘shut up’. 

“Unfortunately.” Purple said. He rested a hand on Cyan’s shoulder. “Can you sit up?” 

What the hell had he just been thinking? What was wrong with him? Tears sprung up in his eyes, as he sat up. His entire body ached, and his stomach was twisting violently and… He clenched the bedsheets, balling his hands into fists. 

“Cyan?”

Why were the lights so bright?

“Let’s get you in the scanner. Can you stand?” Purple’s hand was still on his shoulder, guiding him and trying to get him to respond.

But Cyan couldn’t respond. It felt like his tongue was too big for his too dry mouth. His teeth hurt – his body hurt – and it was so bright in the medbay and…

_He was so Hungry_.

Purple managed to manhandle him into the scanner. It started, the green holograms lighting up and making it halfway through Cyan’s body before flashing red and disappearing. “What the?” Purple guided him gently to the floor and then messed with his tablet. 

There was a vent not far from Cyan, and he had the strangest thought about how much darker and calmer it would be in there. He would be in a small, enclosed space where he could watch for any Impostors and be _safe_. 

But he couldn’t fit in the vents. It was a stupid thought. 

“Let’s try again.” Purple was at his side again, helping him to stand. Once more the green holograms appeared before flashing red and vanishing. Purple swallowed audibly. “It must be malfunctioning. Green hasn’t checked on it yet this week.”

Cyan had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t the scanner that was broken.

It was him. _He_ was broken. There was something _wrong_ with him. “Purple.” His words were a slur, and he reached out for his friend, and…

The doors beeped and swished open. Both he and Purple stared at Red, who stared back at him. “…Successful scan?” Red’s voice was tight. Everything about him was tight, including the grasp he had on the food tray.

Cyan pulled away from Purple. The haze of thoughts that had been over his mind dissipating at the presence of Red and _food_. He stumbled towards Red and would have fallen had Purple not caught him. Red made a noise and took a few steps in so the doors closed behind him.

“Haven’t gotten to it yet.” Purple _lied_. Why were they lying? “Let’s get you to the bed,” Purple said to Cyan, “then you can eat.”

Cyan wanted to eat _now_ , but he supposed he could wait until he got to the bed. Just like the mystery of Purple’s lie could wait. The food didn’t look or smell appetizing beyond the mystery meat, but it was _food_ and he was _starving._ He tore into it the moment the tray was put on his lap.

“Purple, Black was asking for you.” Red said. “I’ll stay with Cyan.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Purple said. 

“Oh?” That caught Cyan’s attention. “Why’s that?” Why were Red and Purple so tense and tight? 

“Purple?” Both of them jumped at Cyan’s voice. “I’ll be safe with Red.” He tried to smile, but the motion felt… weird. Like his muscles were relearning how to smile. Purple stared at him for a good long moment – long enough that Cyan wondered if he had succeeded in smiling – before he cleared his throat.

“Right.” They nodded. “Don’t forget your vegetables.” They nodded at the section of the tray Cyan had been ignoring, and then with Red’s assistance to get past the lock, left the room to head to the cafeteria. Red watched from the doorframe before ducking back into the medbay. The door sealed shut behind him.

Red pulled off his helmet and shook his head before tossing the helmet onto one of the beds. He squatted by Cyan’s side. “How’re you feeling?”

Cyan opened his mouth to tell him that he was fine.

“Honestly.” Red added.

Cyan’s mouth snapped shut. He turned his attention to the tray. The only thing that appealed to him was the meat, but… he stabbed a sporkful of the vegetable and forced himself to swallow them. His stomach clenched unhappily, and the taste of bile rose in the back of his mouth. 

He forcefully swallowed it back down. 

Red sighed and ran a hand through his hair until he reached the ponytail. “This is a nightmare.” He muttered.

Cyan debated telling Red that there was something wrong with him. That he was _broken_ and _messed up_ and that the scanner hadn’t worked for him. The words were there, on the tip of his tongue, practically begging to be said. 

He shoved a sporkful of meat into his mouth instead. The flavor blossomed on his tongue and it took every bit of him not to moan at the taste. He shuddered as the knot his stomach had twisted itself into slowly became undone with every bite.

“I was worried about you.” Red said, and that was what it took for Cyan to look up at him. His gaze was trained solely on Cyan; and this time when Cyan’s stomach twisted, it wasn’t because he was hungry, but because of _Red_.

Because of how Red was looking at him. 

“We’ve only known each other for a few weeks.” Cyan mumbled. How was it that Red’s gaze could hold that much emotion for him after only so long? How was it that Red could _look_ at him like that? Like Cyan was something _precious_? Like Cyan _wasn’t broken_. 

His eyes were burning again, except unlike last time, big fat wobbly tears slid down his cheeks when he blinked. Red inhaled sharply and something like panic flashed across his face.

“Oh, Cyan.” Red’s hands were cupping Cyan’s face, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” 

But it wasn’t. There was an Impostor among them. _Pink was dead_ , and who knew who was going to be next. And the paperwork that Mira had them go over before accepting this mission had detailed not to get attached to crewmates lest they be Impostors.

But Red was clearly attached to Cyan, and Cyan was clearly attached to Red.And Red worked Security. What if he encountered the Impostor? What if he died?

What if… Cyan had to clean up Red’s body?

The tears came out faster and faster until Cyan’s body shook with the force of them. Panic once again flashed on Red’s face before Cyan’s face was suddenly pushed against Red. Red’s arms were wrapped around him with Red’s chin resting on Cyan’s head.

Cyan grabbed Red’s suit, balling it up as he sobbed into his shoulder. Vaguely he was aware of Red rocking them back and forth while humming. 

“I’m scared.” Cyan admitted once the tears finally started to slow. 

He was scared of losing Red, of dying. He was scared of whatever had happened with the scanner, and why Purple had lied. He was scared of the Impostor. Of his murderous nightmares and how they had leaked into his waking thoughts. 

“It’ll be alright, Cyan. I’ll find whoever hurt Pink.” Red pulled away and then wiped a few of the remaining tears away. “Did you… want to continue eating?” He nodded over to the tray which had somehow gotten to the bed beside Cyan’s. Red must have put it there before hugging him.

Cyan shook his head. He was still hungry, but the thought of eating made him feel ill. 

Red pursed his lips but didn’t say anything further about the tray. The ‘day’ lights started to dim. “Meeting must be over.” Red glanced at the still locked medbay doors. “We’ll probably be here the rest of the night. Lockdown won’t end until ‘morning’.”

Cyan’s heart skipped a beat at the same time his stomach dropped. Hadn’t he been looking forward to a night with Red? He just hadn’t wanted or expected it to be like this.

“We should probably get some sleep.” Red commented. “I’ll take the bed closer to the door.” To protect Cyan in case anyone got in. Cyan’s heart skipped another beat. Red stood up, leaned over Cyan, and pressed his lips against’ Cyan’s in a very chaste kiss. “Goodnight, Cyan.”

Cyan’s lips tingled where Red’s had been. 

Red straightened up, and then moved to step away, but Cyan shot out and grabbed his hand before he could. “Sleep with me?” Tumbled out of Cyan’s mouth before he could think about what he was asking or even how the words could be taken.

But they were spoken, and they were out there. And like a gas leak, it was nearly impossible to take the words back. To shove them back into his mouth and pretend that he had never spoken them.

In the ‘night’ lights, it was hard to see Red’s expression. Especially when he was looking down at Cyan with the lights above him. His heart clenched. He had asked too much and now…

The bed creaked as Red’s weight was added onto it. Relief flood Cyan, and he pressed himself into Red as the other manhandled Cyan into a comfortable position for them both.

Stars, he forgot how strong Red was.

He ended up practically on top of Red with Red’s arms wrapped securing around him. Red’s chin touched the crown of his head, and Cyan thought he felt Red press a kiss to the top of his head. Beneath his head, he could hear Red’s steady heartbeat.

The sound of it was enough to lull him to sleep. The last thing he heard before he finally drifted off was Red whisper, “I’m an idiot.”


	6. Chapter 6

In the end, there was no way to say who killed Pink, or even when it happened. Purple would normally be able to do tests to discover the time of death, but the chemicals they needed for said tests were mysteriously missing.

They all tried hard not to think of what the implications of that were. Or at least, they all tried very hard not to _say_ what the implications of that were.

All they had was Orange’s claim that Pink was still alive when she went into Communications to accept the diverted electricity in the morning. However, by the time Yellow went to check on Pink before dinner, he was dead.

It felt surreal to think that Pink was dead. 

No more weekly ‘celebration’ pancakes that no one ate. No more hounding other crewmates for gossip. No more… no more Pink. The world seemed less vibrant. Less happy. 

And why wouldn’t it be? Pink’s death only meant one thing. There was an Impostor among them.

“I just.. can’t believe it.” Orange repeated for the umpteenth time that ‘day’. Purple had released him and Red from the medbay on the stipulation that Cyan took it easy today, but… he couldn’t leave Orange to do all the engineering tasks by herself.

Besides, keeping himself busy was better than sitting in his room and trying to process what he had seen. It was better than being trapped with his nightmares. 

Although, he hadn’t experienced one when he slept with Red. 

“He was alive when I walked in.” Orange whispered. Her hands dropped from the wires that she had been detangling. “I… I just…”

“Can’t believe it.” Cyan finished for her. “Yeah, I know. The whole situation is just… crazy. And now we’re not allowed alone anywhere.”

Orange nodded. “Yeah. I really thought things were different with this crew. I really thought…” She sniffled and shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No.” Cyan wanted to reach out and touch her, but he couldn’t. Fear coursed through his body. He knew Orange probably wasn’t the Impostor, but that didn’t change the fact that she was the last person to have seen Pink alive. “It does matter.” 

If she was the Impostor, then Cyan was already as good as dead. 

She looked up at him with watery eyes, and Cyan’s heart went out to her. He wanted to wrap her up in a hug, Impostor or not. “I thought… that maybe I finally found an Impostor free crew. That maybe this could be ‘Forever Crew’, ya know?”

Forever Crew. A Crew that you were stuck with for the rest of your employment (life) with Mira. A Crew that was more like a Family than a ragtag of crewmates. A Crew that one could _trust._ It was the dream and goal of most Crewmates, to find that mythical perfect Crew for them.

Cyan had stopped believing in it untold crews ago.

But it was endearing that Orange hadn’t. “You want to be on a Forever Crew with _Yellow and Green?_ ” Cyan teased her instead, shoulder checking her. She offered him a watery smile. 

“I mean, _they_ aren’t ideal. But—” she cut herself off as she stared past Cyan at the vent in the back corner.

“Orange?”

She blinked and shook her head. “I just… I thought I heard something.” Cyan looked over his shoulder at the vent. The sudden urge to try to cram himself into it rose up, and he mentally shoved it back down and away. 

“From the vent?” 

He pushed the wires off his lap and stood. “Don’t.” Orange said, as he inched closer to the vent. He peered in through the slots, but he didn’t see anything from the darkness. That feeling welled up inside him again, pushing him to reach out for the vent.

It would be so nice and dark down there. Safe, away from everyone. He could just hide away in the vents. Away from airlocks and lava pits and…

The shadows shifted in the vent. Cyan took a startled step back.

“Do you see anything?” Orange asked. 

“Nothing.” Cyan pulled himself away from the vent and smiled at her. “This is an old ship, hard to say what you heard.”

Orange bit her lip and nodded.

Technically, with Pink’s death, they were all supposed to wear their helmets again. But, he and Orange had both removed theirs upon entering the Electrical room. It was hot enough in there without the helmets. 

“Anyways, you were saying?”

“Hmm? Oh! About my Forever Crew.”

“Yeah.” Cyan plopped down on the floor again, this time facing the vent. Orange sat beside him, her thigh pressed against his. 

“Well, I mean, you’re pretty sweet.” She leaned to the side and gently shoulder checked him. “Red’s a nice bonus too. He’s a really sweet guy.” 

Cyan thought about Red sleeping with him, about holding him while he cried. He thought about how worried Red had been despite only knowing Cyan for a few weeks. 

Then he thought about his nightly talks with Red, and the kisses they had shared. He flushed slightly, and coughed to clear his throat. “Red’s… nice.”

“’Nice’,” Orange snorted. “Speaking of… heard you spent the night with him in medbay.”

“Nothing happened!”

She sighed and dropped her hands to her lap. “I know.” She fiddled with the wires. “I just… Pink’s death probably put a damper on your relationship. Never know when someone might get airlocked.”

The thought of Red getting airlocked was almost enough to take Cyan’s breath away. A chill of fear ran down his spine at the idea. Red was probably one of the only crewmates on the ship that Cyan truly trusted. 

The only other one that Cyan could think of was Purple. Maybe Black. Maybe.

He released a shuddered breath. “I’m sure we’ll catch the Impost—” A loud feedback from their helmets cut Cyan off, and he stared at the helmet in mild confusion. “What the?”

“And so it starts.” Orange shoved the wires off her lap and turned the audio off before putting her helmet on. “C’mon. We better go try to fix the communicators. They’ve been sabotaged.”

“Sabotaged?!” Cyan repeated. His ears felt like they were bleeding the longer the static tones echoed from his helmet, and he didn’t even have it on yet. He followed Orange’s lead, turning the volume down before putting it on. 

It didn’t really make it any more bearable.

Orange held his hand as they crossed Storage, and then down the short hallway to Communications. She marched right in while he hesitated at the door.

Someone else had cleaned up the mess from Pink, but even through the helmet, he could _smell_ the blood. His stomach churned, his teeth ached. He forced himself to take a step forward one at a time until he was at Orange’s side.

She smacked the communicator. “Stupid thing.” She growled. 

“Hey! Don’t break it!” Brown pushed past Cyan to grab Orange’s hand as she went to smack it again. “It’s a delicate machine.”

“Hurry up and fix the damn thing.” Black demanded from the door. 

It seemed like the entire crew was all trying to cram into the office. Black was at the door. Brown and Orange were at the machine. Red came up last and touched Black’s shoulder to get his attention. “White’s with Purple and Yellow in Admin.”

Black nodded and then surveyed the room. “Where’s Green?”

Brown looked up from the machine. Through the visor, Cyan could see her bite her lip. “She said she’d be right behind me.”

“Where were you?” Black demanded. 

“Medbay.” And Black was off, catching the doorframe to sling shot himself into the hallway. “Purple said the scanner was malfunctioning.” Brown continued. Her hands were shaking. “Going off randomly and stuff for the past couple of days ever since Pink…” Her voice wavered, and Red stepped forward and rested his hand on her shoulder. “She was trying to fix it.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Black will make sure.” He nodded to the communication device. “Let’s work on one thing at a time, yeah?”

Orange stepped away from the machine and pressed her side against Cyan. “Red…” Her voice wavered. He looked in her direction, and she shook her head, casting her eyes down. Her hand found Cyan’s and she squeezed. 

“You guys okay?” Red asked. “You should have gone to Admin with White and the others.”

“We were trying to fix the Communicators.” Orange said. “It’s not… It’s been a few days.” Realization dawned upon Cyan. Orange must have been the one to clean up Pink. That was why Red was worried about them both being in here.

Orange had cleaned up Pink, and Cyan had fainted. 

“We’re fine.” He tried to assure Red with a smile. He squeezed Orange’s hand. “I was with Orange in Electric when they went down. I didn’t see anyone near here.”

Red nodded. “Did you see or hear anything strange?”

“I thought I heard something from the vents.” Orange admitted. “But I didn’t see anything.”

“Cyan?”

He shook his head. Shifting shadows wasn’t proof of anything. And besides, he couldn’t see how a Human Impostor could get into the vents anyways. Not without being either stupidly flexible or small. Besides, they’d need a specialized tool just to open the grate.

Red hummed. “We’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Orange.” She nodded.

The static feedback finally ended, and Cyan nearly slumped in relief. Some of the tension leaked out of Red. And then the Emergency Meeting alarm went off.

“Green.” Brown whispered. Her body pitched forward and quicker than Cyan could catch, Red stepped forward and caught her before she could full fall. “Green!” She wailed into Red’s shoulder.

“Don’t jump to conclusions.” He said. “She might not be—”

“Red.” Orange interrupted. She shook her head when he looked over at her. “Let’s just… go.”

The trek to the Cafeteria was a quiet one, punctuated only by the occasional wail from Brown. It was awkward and sad and horrible. She let out an even louder sob as they entered the Cafeteria to find everyone _but_ Green standing around the table. Black had his helmet off, his hand in a fist against the table with a hung head.

“Oh Brown.” Orange whispered as even Red couldn’t hold her up and she fell to the floor. 

“No! Not Green, please, anyone but Green.” She sobbed. Red shuffled uneasily and looked to Black. He held his hands out in a ‘what do you want me to do’ manner. But Black wasn’t looking or responding.

Purple stepped forward. “I’ll take her to… Admin.” Admin, because Green had been left in medbay. Cyan felt his mouth go dry at the thought of Green’s body being left in medbay alone. His stomach twisted and cramped. He felt like he was going to be sick.

“Be careful.” Red advised as Purple took over with the hysterical Brown. Purple nodded at him before kneeling beside her.

“Let’s get to the meeting.” He nodded at the table. They all took a seat. Well, all who were attending did. No Purple or Brown. No Pink or Green, although for different reasons. Drastically different reasons.

“Is… Is Green really…?” Yellow trailed off. Black nodded, and took a deep breath before looking up.

“Yes. Green is dead in medbay. It looks like the same method was used with multiple wounds on her back.”

“Stabbed to death.” White muttered. “What a way to go.”

“Red, you were on Camera’s.” Black said. “Did you see anything?”

“Cameras were down.” Red leaned forward, lacing his fingers on the table. “You know they go down when communication’s sabotaged.”

“Stars.” Yellow whispered. 

“Last I saw, Green and Brown entered medbay. Purple was with Yellow in Admin. Orange and Cyan were together. I didn’t see where _you two were_.” Red reported. “But then the cameras went out. I headed to Communications to try to fix it.”

The accusation was subtle. Under the table, Orange held Cyan’s hand. “It couldn’t have been Black.” She said. “He would never…” 

“I didn’t say it was.” 

“Like with Pink, we just don’t have any proof or evidence.” White sighed. “Whoever’s the Impostor… they’re good.” 

“They know what they’re doing.” Black agreed. “And they’re playing the long game.”

“Two kills in a few days isn’t what I would call the Long Game.” Red pointed out. “If Green was working on the med scanner, there might be some data in the error records.”

“That’s a good point.” White nodded. “Think Purple could pull that data?”

“We won’t know unless we ask.” Black sighed. He stood up and then turned a critical eye over the room. “Cyan, c’mon. I don’t want to leave Brown alone.”

“Hold on.” Red’s hand fell on Cyan’s shoulder, keeping him from standing. “Why Cyan?”

“I’m not going to hurt your boyfriend.” ‘Boyfriend’. The word echoed in Cyan’s head despite the severity of the situation. ‘Boyfriend’. Black thought that Cyan was Red’s _boyfriend_. “And I don’t trust you to be left alone with Brown.”

“You trying to say something, Black?” Red asked, standing up.

White also stood. “Enough.” She slammed her hands down on the table. And that jarred Cyan out his ‘boyfriend’ haze. “Orange, go stay with Brown. Make sure she’s alright. Black, go grab Purple. Red, sit back down. We’re going to wait here patiently and quietly until Purple gets results.”

The sound of Orange’s chair scrapping across the floor echoed in the cafeteria as she stood to follow Black. A few moments later, Black and Purple went up to medbay. Even from in the cafeteria, Cyan could hear Purple curse.

His body shuddered. Under the table, Red’s hand found his thigh, and he squeezed it reassuringly.

After what seemed like forever, Purple and Black entered the Cafeteria. Black’s face was stony, and Purple looked troubled.

“Well?” White prompted.

“The error log was wiped.” Purple announced. “And the med scanner is completely inoperable. It was hard enough to get the error log.”

“Wiped?” Yellow repeated. “That’s not possible unless someone _knew_ what they were doing.”

“The only ones who should have that knowledge are Purples, Greens, and Blues.” Red said. “We don’t have a Blue on board.” And Green was just murdered. Which meant that either Green had wiped it before she died or…

Everyone’s gaze cut to Purple. “I was in Admin with Yellow!” They said. “It wasn’t me.” 

“They were.” Yellow confirmed. “They didn’t leave my side, even when the communicator broke.”

“There’s no way Purple is an experienced enough Impostor to pull all this off like this.” White said. She shook her head. “We’re back at square one.”

“We just need to continue keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavior.” Black said. 

“Wait.” Yellow said. “So that’s it? Just like with Pink, we’re going to do _nothing?_ There is a _murderer among us_ and we’re going to do _nothing?!”_

“We don’t have any idea who it is.” Black said. “Do you want to airlock an innocent, because I don’t.”

“For all we know,” White leaned back in her chair. “You and Purple could both be Impostors and be in cahoots with each other.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I wouldn’t!”

Cyan wasn’t sure what to believe. Purple had _lied_ to Red about the scanner. But… he had lied to protect Cyan. The scanner not working for Cyan would have been incredibly suspicious, and Red was Security. Then again, what was to stop Purple from lying to protect someone else? What if Yellow was the Impostor, and Purple was covering for them?

He couldn’t say that. If he did, it would call out why Purple had lied for him. And then they would know, and he would be airlocked.

He shuddered again. Red squeezed his thigh. 

“I vote we wait. We just don’t have enough information.” Red pulled out his tablet and pressed a button. Black and White nodded, likewise following his actions. Cyan did as well. 

Purple and Yellow both hesitated, but after a moment, Purple also voted. 

“This is wrong.” Yellow whispered. They looked up at Red. “I told you I couldn’t go through this again.”

“Maybe next crew will be different.” Red said. Black and White both scoffed. Yellow sniffled and finally voted. “That’s six. Do you want me to get Brown and Orange or…” Red trailed off.

“No.” Black shook his head. “We all voted to skip. Their votes wouldn’t count even if they did vote a person.” He stood up. “Lets get to tasking. The sooner we finish, the sooner we go planetside and off this damn ship.”

Cyan couldn’t argue with him there. “Is Orange going to stay with Brown?”

Black studied him for a moment before shaking his head. “Purple, could you look after Yellow and Brown while Orange and Cyan clean up the mess in medbay?” Cyan’s entire body tensed. Red’s hold on his thigh tightened. 

“I’ll oversee Cyan and Orange.” Red suggested. Despite the hold on Cyan’s thigh, there was no sign of tension in Red’s voice. 

White nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll take over cameras.” 

“I guess that leaves me with Admin.” Black realized. He made a face as he looked down to the admin hall. “I don’t do well with crying.”

“We’ve all noticed.” Red commented dryly. “C’mon,” He turned to Cyan, “Let’s get Orange and get to our tasks.”

Cyan didn’t want to. He didn’t want to clean up… Green’s body. He just wanted to go back to his room and curl up on his bed and pretend that the past couple of days hadn’t happened.

“No, go ahead to medbay. I’ll send Orange to you.” Black said. 

Red nodded, and then tapped on Cyan’s shoulder when he didn’t stand or follow. “C’mon.” He repeated. “We’ve got the Airlock the body and get medbay cleaned.”

…Cyan had been avoiding trying to think of where they could have stored Pink’s body. But now he knew: in space. Stars, they ended up airlocked no matter what. At least Blue’s remains had been buried. 

His footsteps seemed to echo as he followed Red into the medbay. The doors were sealed, and Red scanned his badge to let them in and…

Oh.

Cyan wouldn’t have walked in if Red hadn’t pressed a hand squarely on his back and pushed him in. “I’m sorry.” Red said, and Cyan couldn’t being to doubt that sentiment. 

Blood was _everywhere_. Cyan whimpered, his knees felt weak and the next thing he knew, Red was holding him up. “I know, I know.” Red whispered. 

It sounded almost like he was trying to say something else in the words, but the meaning was lost in the static of Cyan’s mind. He blinked and he was in the maintenance building on Polus; another blink and he was in the medbay of the ship. Another blink and _Lime was standing over Pink’s body._ No, it wasn’t Pink that Lime killed but Blue.

“I can’t.” Cyan shook his head, and back pedaled into Red. His shoes slid on the slick floor, and squealing noise echoed in his ears. “I can’t.”

“Cyan.” Red’s voice was so close, but it was hard to hear over the sudden rush of static that joined the squeal of his shoes in the blood. No. That wasn’t static but the sound of rushing blood. “Cyan!”

“I can’t, Red.” He shook his head and continued to try to back pedal. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” Arms were wrapped around him and he was abruptly picked up. His feet continued to kick in the air for a moment before he realized there was no ground under him anymore. 

“Okay, okay. It’s okay.” Red was saying. He spun Cyan around and put him next to the door and then rested his hands on Cyan’s shoulders. “It’s alright, Cyan. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. Why couldn’t Red understand that? 

It wasn’t okay because Cyan _wasn’t_ okay. There was something _wrong_ with him. He couldn’t breathe, but he was gulping down breaths of air. The taste and smell of blood was thick even through the suits filter.

And it smelled _so good_ and that so was so many degrees of _wrong wrong wrong_. How could Red say things were alright and okay when they so clearly weren’t? Green and Pink were both dead, and Cyan was _broken_. 

“You aren’t broken.” Red hissed. 

But what did Red know? How could Red understand the way his stomach twisted at the smell of blood and the sight of Green’s body? How could Red understand the way his teeth hurt and his body hurt and _everything_ hurt? 

He felt like there was something inside him. Under his skin, _wearing him_ like he was nothing more than a _puppet_. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. 

Cyan heard the sound of his helmet’s clasps being undone, and then his helmet was gone, and Red’s hands were on his face. 

“Look at me.” Red demanded. 

But all Cyan could focus on was the smell of the room, and how it smelled _so good_. There was a hiss of the doors opening and then a flood of fresh air. Cyan took huge gulping breaths of it, nearly wrenching himself out of Red’s grasp to fall onto his knees in the doorframe. 

Orange shrieked, “What’s going on?”

“He’s having another panic attack.” Red’s hands were on him again, helping him to sit up. “Deep breaths, Cyan. There you go. Inhale, hold. One, two, three. Let it go. That’s it. Inhale, hold. One, two, three.” 

Cyan’s world seemed to hyper focus on Red, on his words. He found himself automatically following them. His body shook, even as Red ran a hand up and down his back. “There, you go.” Red whispered reassuringly. “That’s it.”

“Should… should I go get Purple?” He heard Orange ask. The hand on Cyan’s back stilled for just a moment. 

“No. I got this.” Red paused. “ _We_ got this, don’t we Cyan?” 

Cyan nodded. Out of the room, with Red walking him through breathing, it was… easier. His inhales and exhales were still shaky, but they weren’t the panicked gulps of before. The smell of blood still drifted out of the medbay. Cyan hated that he still thought it smelled… _nice_.

“Where are your helmets?” Orange asked. 

“I was trying to get him to calm down and look at me… not at the body.” Red replied. 

Orange shifted – Cyan could hear the sound of her suit rubbing against itself. He could hear the vent rattle in the back corner of medbay. He could hear a drop of blood splash into the puddle that was Green.

If he strained, he realized he could hear the rhythmic pounding of Orange’s and Red’s hearts. 

What was wrong with Cyan? 

“Should… Will… Am I…” Orange stuttered. 

“I’ll help you. I don’t think Cyan’s in any state to help.”

“No.” Cyan surprised himself. He shook his head and willed his newfound super hearing away. To his surprise, it slowly started to fade. “I… I’ll help.” He looked up to see surprise on Red’s face. He couldn’t see Orange’s through her visor, but he could imagine her similarly surprised. “I just wasn’t prepared.” 

Understanding and acceptance flashed across Red’s face. The corners of his lips curled upwards just the smallest bit. “Alright. But if it gets to be more than you can manage, let us know.”

“Are you sure, Red?” Orange asked. She fretted and continued to stare at Cyan. 

“Cyan is.” Red stood and offered Cyan a hand. “Let’s get to it.”


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner following the discovery of Green’s body had been an unbearably quiet affair. Brown had been too distraught to eat, so both Yellow and Purple had kept her company in Admin. 

Red didn’t typically attend meals, but he was sitting beside Cyan, casting him overt looks when people weren’t looking. Cyan only knew because he kept accidently catching Red’s eye. Cyan also noticed that Red only touched the meat on his tray.

Something like unease prickled at the back of Cyan’s neck and in the pit of his stomach. But it wasn’t like he could talk about Red’s food choices when the thought of eating anything but meat himself made him feel ill.

His teeth still hurt. Had been hurting the entire time he was in medbay cleaning up Green. It was just a low dull ache. Barely noticeably if not for its persistence.

His mind kept replaying what he could remember of his freak out. Red’s face in his. The demand to look at him. The reassurance that he wasn’t broken.

He hoped that last bit was just a product of his mind, but he didn’t think so. Not with how Red kept looking over at him. Not with how close Red had stuck to him during the cleaning. 

And maybe Red had a good reason to stick close to Cyan. More than once he had been overcome with the sudden desire to lick the blood off his gloves and only the presence of the others had stopped him.

He needed to talk to Purple, but with how much Yellow and Brown needed them, Cyan didn’t think it’d happen tonight.

“Head to your rooms after you finish.” Black declared. “White, Red, and I will patrol around the ship in shifts.”

Cyan ducked his head and shoved another sporkful of meat into his mouth. The idea of it being Green flashed in his mind as quick as a blink and he choked as he swallowed. 

“You okay, Cyan?” Black asked. Red’s hand was on his back. Not patting or rubbing, just _there_. 

Cyan forced a smile that broke as he coughed again. “Yeah, just swallowed wrong.” He pushed the tray away. “I’m going to head to my room.” 

“I’ll escort him.” Red announced. 

Black gave them a critical eye while White crackled. “Don’t spend too long with your ‘goodnights’.” She teased, waggling her eyebrows on the last word. 

Cyan thought it was rather insensitive of her considering the events of the day, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to reprimand her. Red scoffed, and rested the hand not holding his helmet on Cyan’s shoulder after they threw away their trash.

There was something very comforting about Red’s touch. Like it was grounding Cyan to the here and now. He bumped into Red as they walked, and he imagined there being some sort of magnetic attraction between them that kept drawing them together.

They paused outside of Cyan’s room and he tried not to remember what had happened the last time they were both standing out here. Now wasn’t the time for that. 

He wasn’t sure if it ever would be the time for that again. He hoped that in the future, they could pick back up, but with what was going on with Cyan and the murders? Well, Cyan could try to remain as optimistic as he wanted about his relationship with Red. But optimistic thoughts weren’t always enough.

“I’m sorry.” Cyan couldn’t ever recall a time where Red sounded _this_ tired. Like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Green was too soon.” 

Yeah, it had been a bit too soon to push Cyan into the situation, but… cleaning up bodies _was_ one of Cyan’s new Tasks. He needed to be able to do his Tasks without having panic attack each time. And besides, beyond the panic attack with Pink, how was Red supposed to have known it would happen again?

“It’s fine.” Cyan smiled at Red. He wondered if it looked as tired as he felt. “You couldn’t have known it would trigger something like that again.”

Red looked like he had swallowed a lemon or something as equally sour. “Yeah.” His voice was tight.

Cyan’s eyebrows furrowed as he mentally ran through the conversation. He couldn’t think of anything he’d said or done wrong. 

“Cyan,” Red paused. “You know you aren’t… _broken_ , right?” Cyan flinched, and Red shut his eyes as he inhaled sharply. He opened them only a moment later and frowned down at Cyan. “You aren’t.” He repeated. “I know things are scary right now, but—” Red look away sharply, his gaze focused on something down the hallway. “We’ll talk more later, alright?”

Cyan strained his ears to pick up the sound of approaching footsteps. There was no way that Red had heard that unless he had the same oddly enhanced hearing as Cyan.

His mind raced as he tried to understand the implications, and then he shook his head. He didn’t care. He really didn’t. So what if Red had freakishly good hearing? It didn’t have to mean anything. It was probably a security thing.

They were probably trained or something to pick up noises most people didn’t. 

Red started to pull away, and it was stupid. It was stupid, but the motion of it tugged at something in Cyan. He might be a puppet to whatever lurked under his skin, but he was a puppet with a will. And it seemed the only thing both he and the thing in him could agree upon was a mutual desire for Red.

He surged forward, stepping forward just as Red stepped backwards, keeping their bodies connected. 

“Can’t you stay?” Cyan asked, looking up at Red from under his lashes. “I know you have a Task, but… just until I fall asleep?” He had slept so well that one time in the medbay with Red, and he just _knew_ he was going to have nightmares unless Red stayed with him.

Red’s gaze flickered between the hallway and Cyan rapidly a few times before Red swallowed and nodded. Cyan couldn’t tell if the satisfaction he felt was his own or whatever was wearing him. He decided he didn’t care.

He’d care later, once he could talk to Purple.

Cyan triggered the door to his bedroom and gently tugged Red inside. “Thank you.” Cyan said. 

Red cleared his throat and suddenly seemed interested in looking at everything _but_ Cyan. “For what?”

“For everything.” For coming inside. For comforting him. For walking him through his panic attack. For not thinking he was broken when he so clearly was. 

For the first time in a long while, Cyan couldn’t read the look Red gave him. “I’d do anything for you.” The admission was so soft and quiet, that Cyan wasn’t sure he would have caught it without his new enhanced hearing.

Satisfaction and warmth welled up inside of Cyan at Red’s quiet admission. Cyan didn’t deserve it, not with whatever the hell was going on with him, not with what was going on in the ship. 

But the fact that Red felt like that about Cyan? It made Cyan all warm and fuzzy and satisfied. He was suddenly caught up in the idea of surrounding Red, of wrapping himself up and around Red. Red was _his, his, his_. His own heartbeat pounded in his head. His teeth and body ached, and he wanted to just press himself into Red. 

Or have Red press himself _into_ Cyan. Either option worked just so long as they were _together_. 

As the thought passed, Cyan was hit with a sudden moment of clarity of wondering if he shouldn’t have invited Red in after all. 

“You should get some sleep. There’s been a lot of excitement today.” Red stepped forward and scooped him – and that should be illegal – before dropping him gently into his bed. Cyan was briefly reminded of the time Red had carried him to bed. 

And then Red slipped into the bed beside Cyan. “I can only stay for so long.” He cautioned. “White and Black will get suspicious otherwise.”

Cyan nodded, and curled up into Red’s side, resting his head over his chest. The sound of Red’s heartbeat filled his ears. Listening to it seemed to put Cyan at ease – every part of him. His eyelids dropped as he felt Red’s hand stroking gently up and down his side.

He woke to a cold bed. 

It wasn’t a surprise. Red _had_ said that he couldn’t stay, and Cyan had known that Red had Tasks to get done. It didn’t make the fact that he woke alone and cold sting any less.

He shivered as he changed. Compared to the past couple of days, his mind felt oddly quiet and empty. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. Even the low persistent ache of his body seemed less.

He looked down at his ungloved hands and curled them into fists a few times, trying to imagine _something_ under his skin. 

Unlike yesterday, the thought seemed… ridiculous and stupid. The only thing under his skin was himself. The thing under his skin was _just himself_. That’s all there was. This wasn’t an _it and him_ situation, but just a _him_ situation.

Of course both ‘it’ and him wanted Red, because _he_ wanted Red.

But then what about the strange thoughts he’d been having? The nightmares and feelings? 

“I’m going crazy.” He muttered and shook his head. Immediately after breakfast he would seek out Purple. He was going to talk to them and see if they could get to the bottom of what was going on.

He cleaned up in the bathroom, taking a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. Beyond shadows under his eyes, he looked _normal_. He looked as he always had: sweet, cute, innocent… unassuming. 

He shook his head and then splashed water on his face. He was thinking too much into this. He needed to talk to Purple. 

By the time he finished up and headed to the Cafeteria, almost everyone ~~who was left~~ was there except for Black and Red. 

Purple – his target – was sitting alone, eating what looked to be oatmeal. Even before all this weird stuff started happening, Cyan had never liked oatmeal. The texture and flavor had always made him gag. He wrinkled his nose as he sat down beside Purple.

Purple paused, their spoon halfway to their mouth. “Aren’t you going to get something to eat?” They asked. 

Cyan glanced at the food distributors and ran through a mental checklist of the options. Nothing sounded good. ~~Was this why Red always skipped breakfast?~~ Cyan shook his head. “I need to talk to you.”

Purple’s spoon was slowly lowered back into the bowl as Purple gave him a long unreadable look. Cyan resisted the urge to fidget or squirm.

“Orange thought you might seek me out. She warned me this morning that you had an… episode yesterday.” Purple frowned. “Is that why you’re not eating? Is the stress making you not hungry?”

It was the opposite, really. It was making Cyan _too_ hungry. Hungry for the wrong kinds of things to boot. But he couldn’t just blurt that out in a cafeteria of paranoid crewmates. 

Part of him wondered if he should. If he should just shout his symptoms from the top of his lungs and allow himself to be carted off to the airlock. Or maybe he should just step into the airlock himself? Hadn’t Brown and Green’s Black done exactly that?

Had she been experiencing what Cyan was experiencing himself, and decided that the safest course was to jettison herself out in the cold, merciless expanse of space?

“Something like that.” He said when he realized he’d left Purple unanswered for a bit longer than what was probably acceptable. 

“I see.” Purple’s frown deepened. “Black wanted me to check in on those who seemed most affected by the events of this past week.” They picked up their bowl as they stood. “You were on my list of crewmates to check up upon. Shall we get started? I’ve been assured the medbay has been made acceptable.”

“Yeah. We made sure it was up to your standards.” Well, Cyan did, since he was the only one in the crew to actually know Purple’s standards. He walked with Purple as he dropped what was left of his meal into the trash chute before they headed to the medbay together.

Purple walked right in like Green hadn’t been murdered in there just the day before. Like Cyan and Orange – and even Red – hadn’t worked tirelessly to clean up the remains. Cyan hesitated at the door. Like with the communications room, he could still smell the blood under the nearly sterile stench of chemicals.

“Normally, I’d suggest having a medbay scan.” Purple said as they continued to the scanner that Green had been found slaughtered under. “But I think you’d understand why that’s not an option currently.”

Cyan nodded. Orange – and even Cyan – had taken a crack at it while they had been cleaning. Some of the wires looked like they had been quite literally ripped out, like the killer had been in a rush to dispose of the machine.

It would be a long time before the scanner worked again – **_if_ **it ever worked again. There was a very likely chance that they would need to report the scanner as needing to be replaced when the ship finally made it planet side.

Purple pulled out a stool from under the sample analysis and took a seat before gesturing at one of the nearby beds. “What did you want to talk about, Cyan?”

Cyan took a steadying breath and entered the medbay to take a seat on one of the beds Purple had indicated. What didn’t he want to talk about? He removed his helmet and held it in his lap, idly playing with the clasps. 

“I think something’s wrong with me.” Cyan admitted after a long moment. 

“What makes you think that?” Purple asked. They pulled out their clipboard and made a couple of notes, although what Purple had to write down so soon into their discussion, Cyan couldn’t imagine. “Is this about the nightmares?”

Cyan looked down at the helmet in his lap. “They’re part of it, I guess.” 

“You guess? Did you want to talk about them?”

No. The last thing Cyan _wanted_ to do was talk about them. “Not really.” He took another steadying breath. Closer to where Green had passed, the scent of blood seemed stronger. He and Orange had cleaned this entire room with so many chemicals, he couldn’t believe that he could still smell the blood.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, Cyan.”

“I know!” Cyan snapped. He bit his lip and looked back down at the helmet, hunching his shoulders. “I know it’s just… hard to talk about it.” Purple made a noise, like they were going to say something, but Cyan continued. “I see Lime when I sleep. Standing over Blue.”

“You and our Previous Orange were the ones to find him at the scene of the crime.” Purple noted. “It’s not surprising that you’d ha—”

“I see Blue’s body form a tentacle and it… it…” Cyan closed his eyes, and behind his eyelids the scene played out. Lime’s body impaled by the tentacle. The hot blood spraying on Cyan. His hands on either side of Lime’s head. “I kill him.”

Purple made a startled noise. “Help me understand what happens, Cyan. Blue’s body forms a tentacle and then… you kill Lime?”

Cyan nodded. “It stabs him and then I… I break his neck.”

“You’re not a killer, Cyan.” Purple said. “You’re the least likely killer out of everyone on this ship, and I’m including myself in that that.” Because even Purple lied. 

They had lied to Red about Cyan not being scanned yet when the scanner wouldn’t finish with Cyan’s scan without erroring. Even at the meeting there had been suspicions. Only someone who knew how the scanner worked could have cleared the error codes.

The error codes that would have shown that the machine failed with Cyan. Cold fear flooded his veins. Had Purple? 

No. No, it wasn’t possible. Even if Purple had killed Green – to protect Cyan – they had an alibi from Yellow. They couldn’t be the Impostor, could they?

“Cyan?” Purple prodded. “You know you’re not a killer, right?”

“But something in me wants to be.” Cyan admitted. Purple _couldn’t_ be the Impostor. And Cyan wanted to figure out what was wrong with him. “I keep having these thoughts and they’re… they’re not _me_.”

“Thoughts?” He could hear Purple writing again. Cyan kicked his legs idly and stared down at the helmet. “Cyan, it’s very important that you explain what type of thoughts.”

“Murderous ones.” He looked up at Purple. “Where I eat crewmates or hurt them.”

Purple hadn’t put on his helmet after breakfast, so Cyan was able to see how they tensed. The blood in their face seemed to drain. “I was afraid of this.” They muttered, and then louder, asked, “May I take a sample of your blood?”

“Afraid of what?” Cyan asked. “Why do you want my blood?”

“Blue was researching something… dangerous on Polus. I didn’t think you were affected until… recently.” 

“Until Pink died.” Cyan clarified.

Purple sighed and pushed up their glasses. “Yes. Until Pink died. I had hoped the symptoms you demonstrated were just that of your stress, but…”

“But what?” Cyan asked as Purple trailed off. “What’s wrong with me, Purple?”

“Allow me to take a blood sample to confirm.” Purple stood up and grabbed a syringe off the desk of the sampler. Cyan was off of the bed in a blink. 

“No.” Cyan shook his head. His voice trembled with the word, and Purple lowered the syringe, concern flashing over his face. “Tell me.”

“Before I do, it’s imperative that you know this isn’t your fault, Cyan. The blame rests solely on me and Blue.”

“Just tell me!” His voice was still shaking. “What’s wrong with me, Purple?”

Purple sighed again. He ran the hand not holding the syringe through his gelled hair. “I won’t know without testing… but I suspect you’re infected.” 

Infected.

The word echoed in Cyan’s brain, bouncing around like the DVD logo on the broken tv on Polus. 

Infected. 

What did that even mean? What was he infected by? Some strange murder-disease that made whoever contracted it want to kill people?

“I’m going to walk past you to close the medbay doors.” Purple said, putting the syringe down on the counter. “What I’m about to tell you is incredibly sensitive information.” They gave Cyan a wide berth as they walked back to the doors and triggered them to close. 

Maybe Cyan should have been worried about that, but all he could wonder was, “Just what am I infected with?” Cyan asked.

“A parasite of sorts. Or maybe a virus. It’s difficult to tell with this.”

_A parasite._

The feeling of being a puppet, of something being _under_ his skin. The sensation of _something else_. 

“Blue was doing research into it. If I thought you could have gotten it from cleaning up his body, I wouldn’t have allowed anyone to touch it. I wasn’t even sure if Blue was infected. He had been acting strange, but I thought… well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, does it?”

Purple had started pacing the length of the medbay while they spoke, but all Cyan could focus on was bits and pieces of what they were saying.

He was infected by a parasite that he got from cleaning up Blue’s body. Purple had known about it. _Lime had known about it_. He had said that ‘Death is a kinder fate’ when Cyan had asked him he had done it. 

He had originally thought Lime had been talking about himself, but now… now Cyan had to wonder if _Lime knew about the Parasite._ If he knew Blue was infected, somehow, and had tried to kill Blue to stop it.

“I’m going to be doing everything I can do to fix this. To cure you, Cyan.” Purple continued. They stood before Cyan and rested their hands on his shoulders. “I won’t let you turn into an Impostor.”

Cyan pushed Purple away. “That’s what the parasite is? An _Impostor?!”_

“It was Blue’s hypothesis, yes. He theorized that the parasite infected the host and slowly replaced the host’s cells with its own until it consumed the host. At some point, it’s hunger would start manifesting in the desire for—”

“I’m an Impostor!”

“No, no!” Purple frantically shook their head. They patted the air in a standard ‘calm down’ motion, but Cyan didn’t feel like being very calm. 

He had just been told that he was infected because he cleaned up Blue’s body. That he was an Impostor, or turning into one? It was unclear. But what was clear was that Cyan was clearly a danger to the crew.

“You’re not an Impostor, Cyan. Not yet. You clearly still are Cyan, not the parasite. Otherwise, you would have killed or attempted to infect me.”

“I need to tell Red.” Or Black or White or someone. He needed to be airlocked. He needed to be destroyed. He whirled around, fully intending to head to the door and get someone. Purple threw themselves out in front of Cyan and blocked the door.

“No!” They shook their head. “You can’t. He’ll kill you, Cyan. They all will! And then what?” Purple asked, shaking their head. “Think about it, Cyan. You think that parasite will die when you do?”

It was that last question that had Cyan pausing. His eyes were wide as the question hit him. What would happen when he died? 

“It survived long enough after Blue’s death to somehow infect you, didn’t it?” Purple continued. “You will die, and then it’ll be free to take over you completely and entirely. Your body will float in space just waiting for some unsuspecting crew to pick it up. And then what, Cyan?”

“They get infected.” Cyan mumbled. He didn’t sit so much as just collapse onto one of the beds. “My body would infect the crew. Or eat them because it wouldn’t be me anymore. It would be the parasite.”

And Cyan couldn’t do that. 

Yes, he was a danger to _this_ crew, but this crew was already partially doomed. There was an Impostor that _wasn’t_ Cyan onboard, killing people. This crew was at risk. But other crews? 

They didn’t deserve that fate.

“Exactly.” Purple walked back to the sample analyzer. “But you’re not entirely taken over by it yet. I could try to reverse or kill it off, save you and countless others if Blue was right about how widespread this parasite has become.” They held up the syringe. “I just need some samples and time.”

Cyan didn’t fight Purple as he unzipped the suit and tugged it down to free Cyan’s arm. He didn’t fight as the needle dipped under his skin and pulled out his blood. He just stared blankly at the wall in front of him, wondering how and why this had become his life.

“I should still tell Red.” He realized out loud. He had _kissed_ Red. What if Red became infected? What if Red was in danger? Oh, stars. He would need to break up with Red.

Purple had been removing the syringe, and their hand jerked at Cyan’s words. “Stars.” They cursed as they held gauze to the injury. Cyan didn’t even register the pain. “You can’t, Cyan. But you’ll need to break up with him. He can’t know about this.”

“I’ve kissed him.” Cyan said. Made out with him really. “What if I…”

“It needs to get into the bloodstream.” Purple reminded Cyan. “How the Stars it got into yours—”

“I cut myself.” Cyan admitted. “Cleaning Blue’s body. On my hand. I bandaged it.” 

Purple frowned at him. “You should have told me.” They chided. When they removed the gauze, the injury wasn’t bleeding anymore. “We could have caught this well before now.”

“A bit too late for that now.” Cyan muttered. He was quiet as Purple filled a few more vials of blood. “Do you really think you can fix me?” He asked once they were done.

Purple gave him an unreadable look. “I believe this will go a long way to finding a cure.”

Cyan curled his hands into fists against his thighs. “And if we don’t get a cure by the time we get planet side?”

“Then I continue working on it.”

“And If there’ no cure by the time I…?” Cyan trailed off and shook his head. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

Purple sighed and put the vials somewhere in the analyzer. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meanwhile, try to avoid Security if you can. We don’t need them airlocking you.” 

Because Purple cared about him? Because Cyan hadn’t done anything wrong? Because Cyan was Purple’s best hope at a cure?

His skin itched for different reasons than before. He felt both too small and too big. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to do a lot of things. 

“I don’t believe Yellow and Brown had assigned tasks today.” Purple gave him a look over his glasses. “I would take the day to rest.” 

Cyan nodded and redressed himself. Putting the suit on was a comfort, like it was a shield from the outside world. In many ways, it was.

He wandered out into the cafeteria and curled up in a ball in Red’s customary place at the junction of the wall and the window, staring out into the blank expanse of space as he thought about the future.


	8. Chapter 8

After spending the day – uninterrupted, alone – staring at the stars, Cyan came to the conclusion that no matter what Purple said, he _had_ to tell Red. He couldn’t just break up with Red for no reason. Not when they had such a strong attraction to each other.

He couldn’t lie to Red either. Cyan wasn’t a liar. Wasn’t cut out for anything that made Impostors what they were, really. Maybe the Parasite would be better at it but Cyan never intended to give it the chance to try.

He waited through dinner – ignoring the curious looks from the other crewmates – for Red. The lights dimmed to ‘night mode’, and some part of Cyan was dismayed to realize there wasn’t much of a difference for him anymore. 

“Surprised Black and White let you stay here.” Red commented when he entered the cafeteria a full hour after most of the others had gone to bed.

“I think they figured you’d get me.” Cyan half shrugged. “If so, they weren’t wrong.”

“White’s actually the one who sent me.” Red slipped onto the ground beside Cyan. “You don’t normally brood.” 

The entire day he had been playing this conversation over and over in his head. The entire day he had wondered and pondered over what to say. And now the moment was finally here, and he had nothing. No words crawling up his throat or thoughts dominating his mind.

He just felt… empty.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his head into his hands. 

“Cyan?” Red asked. 

Warm hands were pressed to his shoulder, and Cyan flinched. “Don’t.” His eyes were burning, which was ridiculous because he hadn’t even known Red long enough to get _this_ attached. Red removed his hands, but he didn’t leave. 

Cyan could practically _feel him_ , hoovering just out of touch. He couldn’t tell if that was more or less annoying than if just touched Cyan. He didn’t even try pressing Cyan for answers. He was just _there_ , waiting patiently for Cyan to decide what to do.

Stars, Red was too good for Cyan.

“We can’t be together anymore.” Cyan whispered. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He added when Red didn’t say anything. “There’s something wrong with me.”

“What?” Red didn’t ask. No, asking implied that that noise that tore out of Red was normal and friendly. The closest thing that Cyan could think of to describe how Red sounded was an inhuman snarl. 

He flinched again. He hugged his knees tighter, trying to make himself smaller. He wasn’t one for conflict. Not like others were. 

But Red didn’t try to touch him. Didn’t do anything more than just stay there, practically radiating anger. 

“Did Purple tell you that?” Red ~~asked~~ hissed. “Because if they did, they’re lying, Cyan.”

“No!” Cyan shook his head and unfurled to look at Red. “No, they didn’t. They just confirmed what I already knew, Red. I’m broken and staying with me will only hurt you.”

“Let me be the judge of what will hurt me.” Red shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with you, trust me. I know things are scary right now, but it’ll get better, I promise.”

“You don’t understand!” Cyan balled up his fists, and winced as he could feel sharpness of his nails through his gloves. He was too scared to look and see if he had actually broken through the material.

Red frowned. His gaze dipped down to Cyan’s hands and then up to Cyan’s face. “You’d be surprised how much I understand.” The anger from before seemed to have been drained and replaced with some weird mixture of apathy and sorrow that made Cyan want to scream.

He would rather deal with angry Red than this. This Red who was trying to understand, who was sweet, and stupid. He was trying to _break up_ with Red, not _like him even more_.

Cyan’s hands went to his hair and he tugged at it. “You _can’t!_ ” Cyan cried. “You can’t understand, Red. Because I’m…” an Impostor. Or at least turning into one of them. But how could he say that? Purple told him not to. Told him that he’d be airlocked.

And what good was he to anyone airlocked? But… then again… Purple already had several blood vials. They didn’t need Cyan anymore, right? And lying was _not_ something Cyan was good at.

“I’m an Impostor.” Cyan whispered. The words left him in a breath. Tears were falling out of his eyes with every blink. 

Red made a noise that sounded like someone dying – and thanks to Blue he knew exactly how that sounded. Cyan closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of Red getting up; waiting for the wail of the emergency meeting sirens; waiting for Red to react. 

Hands curled around his own and untangled them from his hair. His hands were folded into his lap and then Red’s hands were at his face, gently wiping away the tears. 

Cyan didn’t understand. Where were the alarms? Why wasn’t Red doing anything more than just comforting him? Why wasn’t Red warning the others, or throwing Cyan into an airlock? 

“Not yet, you aren’t.” Red whispered as he brushed some strands of Cyan’s hair back. Cyan blinked up at him.

“I… I don’t understand.”

The corners of Red’s lips tugged upwards, but it wasn’t a happy smile. No, this smile was sad. “How could you? All you’ve known is Mira propaganda.” He exhaled sharply in what could have been a sad single laugh. 

“Wh-what are you talking about?”

This conversation didn’t make sense. Did Red know about Impostors, about the parasite? But then why did Purple say he couldn’t tell anyone? Purple said the information was sensitive. If Red wasn’t supposed to know this information, then why did it seem like he did?

“You probably think it’s a death sentence, don’t you?” Red asked. “It’s not.” Red wrapped an arm around Cyan and pulled him close. As balled up a Cyan was, he fit perfectly into Red. Like a puzzle piece fitting into its partner.

The tension slowly started to ease out of Cyan the longer he was curled up into Red’s side. The window to space was at his side, and then separating him from the rest of the ship was Red. Strong, handsome Red. 

He felt like there was probably no safer place for him at the moment then right where he was.

“You’re stronger than it, Cyan.” Red whispered to him. His voice was soft, sweet, and dark. Cyan shuddered at the sound of it. “And you’re safe with me. No one wants to airlock you.” 

“What… what if I want to be airlocked?” The words slipped out before Cyan could even consider them.

He didn’t. Oh, words couldn’t describe how much he didn’t want to be airlocked. But if he was going to turn into a monstrous murderous Alien Impostor… maybe he should be.

Red stiffened, and let out a low mournful noise that Cyan was pretty sure he wasn’t actually supposed to hear.

“If that’s what you want.” Red’s tone was an echo of the noise he had made, and the sound of it made Cyan ache with misery and guilt. “I won’t interfere… just don’t tell them that I knew.”

Cyan didn’t want to. But sometimes the right thing to do wasn’t always the thing one wanted to do. By that same logic, the right thing to do would be to tell on Red. 

Red, who had listened and talked to him with the backdrop of stars. Red, who made his heart hurt, even now. Red, who was scared and worried for him despite them not knowing each other that long. It wasn’t just part of him that wanted Red, but all of him.

And that was… terrifying. 

What if he hurt Red? He definitely would if he told on Red. He probably would if he turned himself in too. After all, Orange knew that had kissed Red. What if she suspected Red after Cyan was airlocked?

Then again, maybe Red deserved to have suspicions thrown on him. He knew Cyan was an Impostor and wasn’t telling anyone. He was acting kind of strange and knew about Alien Impostors and…

“Cyan.” Red’s voice was so soft. “Yes, you have a parasite, and yes, it’s going to make things hard for you. But you can still be you. You don’t have to go on a murderous killing spree or kill yourself just because you’ve got it.”

“I wanted to snap Purple’s neck.” Cyan said bluntly. But… he didn’t feel that way about Red. 

Red winced. “I did say it’ll make things hard for you.” He pointed out. “You’ll need to learn how to control those urges. You control it, not the other way around.”

How did Red even know about any of this? 

There was only one explanation that made any sense, but Cyan didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. But it was the only thing that made sense to him. The only thing that neatly answered Cyan’s questions about Red.

He opened his mouth to ask but choked on the words. He was too scared to ask. No, too scared to know the truth.

“How long have you known about me?”

“If Pink hadn’t died, I probably would never have known.” Red replied. “I hoped that the way I had to tear you way was just a mixture of shock and stress. But then when you woke up in the medbay, I… I suspected.”

And he had left Cyan alone with Purple despite suspecting what Cyan was. Had stayed the night despite suspecting. Had _kissed_ Cyan. 

Why?

The safest answer was that Red had a monster or Impostor kink. He hadn’t heard of it, but then again, up until these past two missions, Cyan hadn’t known that Impostors were actually real. And if that was the case, well… he wasn’t going to be some fantasy for Red to get off to.

“And what confirmed it?” Cyan asked. 

Red was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that if Cyan were alone would have worried him. 

“Green.” The name had been so quiet that if Cyan hadn’t been straining his ears, he wouldn’t have caught it. He wished he hadn’t caught it. He threw himself forward, rolling out of Red’s grasp. 

Red could have stopped him. Could have held him down. He was strong enough, fast enough. But he didn’t. He didn’t even move except to follow Cyan with his gaze and to drop the arm that had been wrapped around Cyan back to his side. 

“Going to call an emergency meeting on me, Cyan?” Red blinked at Cyan, and all Cyan could think was of how _normal_ Red looked. How he and everyone – except for Black, oh stars, Black had been right – had been fooled by Red.

“You killed Green.” Cyan whispered. 

“It wasn’t the plan.” Red didn’t confirm Cyan’s accusation, but he didn’t deny it either. And why wouldn’t he deny it unless he had actually killed her. “I sabotaged the communicators. Brown and Green were supposed to go to fix it.” Red shook his head. “She was going to call an emergency meeting and airlock you. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let that happen.”

Cyan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Red was an Impostor. One of their Security was the Impostor. Had he been the one to kill Pink? He just confessed to killing Green!

“It would have been easier to allow you to be airlocked.” Red continued. “The crew would think they were safe. We could finish our tasks and move on.”

“So why didn’t you do that?”

“Because you didn’t deserve that.” The anger was back, but not _at_ Cyan, but _for_ Cyan. “You didn’t ask to be infected. You didn’t kill Pink. You haven’t hurt anyone.”

He hurt people by existing. He killed Green by existing. _Red_ _killed for him_.

 _“I’d do anything for you._ ” Red had admitted. After telling him that he was sorry about Green. Oh, Stars. Cyan had thought he was referring to making him _clean up_ Green, but no. He was talking about _killing_ Green.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” Cyan snapped. 

“I know.” Red acknowledged. “And you never will. It’s not who you are, Cyan. But I wasn’t going to let you die for something that wasn’t your fault!” He shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you.” Cyan spat, shaking his head. “I just…” 

Red closed his eyes and nodded. His expressions froze and just like so many nights ago, Cyan watched as Red closed himself back up. His heart jumped, his stomach twisted, and everything in Cyan was screaming at him to reach out and stop him like he had before. 

He didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. 

Red opened his eyes and stood up, brushed off his suit and then sighed as he looked at Cyan. “I won’t tell anyone about you.” He promised. “And you won’t see me again unless it can’t be helped.”

No, something in Cyan shouted. Maybe it was his heart, maybe it was his brain… maybe it was the damn Parasite. All he knew was that he didn’t want this. Didn’t want Red to go away. But this wasn’t about what Cyan wanted. 

This was about what was right. This was about Red _killing_ for Cyan when Cyan had never wanted nor asked Red to. 

“At least allow me to walk you to your room?”

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t allow Red to walk him to his room. If he allowed it, he would be inviting an opportunity for a mistake. He opened his mouth to say ‘no’, then closed it when nothing came out. 

He nodded, and the very momentary relief in Red’s eyes was almost worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on either [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/) or Discord (star.gazing.knight#1982)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by [pesky_poltergeist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pesky_poltergeist/)!

The upcoming week was absolutely miserable. There was an air of tension and paranoia among most of the crewmates as they all seemed to hold their breath waiting for the other boot to drop.

Some, like Brown and Yellow, were forced to actively visit the scenes of the murders. With Pink gone, both Brown and Yellow needed to visit the Communications office more frequently to manage the tasks that had once fallen to Pink.

Purple had already spent a majority of their time in medbay, and they continued to do so, working – unbeknownst to the others – on a cure for the parasite that was turning Cyan into an Impostor. The others were suspicious of their work.

And really, Cyan couldn’t blame them for being suspicious of Purple. He knew that Purple had lied at least once, and there was really no telling what other times Purple might have lied.

Some part of him wondered if Purple’s claims of ‘curing’ him had also been a pretty lie designed to allow Purple to continue Blue’s research on the parasite.

After all, there was only so much one could study a parasite without introducing it to a host, right? Cyan wasn’t entirely sure. Biomed and Research were _not_ Cyan’s forte, although as a Blue, they had been his father’s.

The whispers from that part of his mind didn’t keep him from visiting Purple frequently – citing his stress and trouble sleeping to the rest of the crew – and asking the researcher questions. Purple was Cyan’s only reliable source of information.

It was clear through his break up with Red that Red knew more than he let on about the parasite – more than one expected from someone who’s main Task wasn't _Research_ – but Cyan wasn’t sure how much of it he could trust without knowing Red’s source of information. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know Red’s source.

The less he knew, the better. Ignorance was more than just bliss on a spaceship with an Impostor. For some, it was a death sentence. But for Cyan, it was a security blanket that he wasn’t ready to let go of yet.

So he avoided Red probably just as much as Red was avoiding him. 

Since dropping Cyan off at his room _that_ night, he had not seen or heard Red. In more ways than one, Red had become something of a ghost to Cyan. He was gone both physically and in the aspect of ‘what could have been’. The cafeteria was empty at night whenever Cyan stumbled in after a nightmare.

The loss was painful, leaving Cyan feeling hollow and haunted. He didn’t want to be alone after his nightmares, and yet the one place he had once found solace was now devoid of any comfort. Even the sight of the stars through the window seemed so cold, lifeless, and apathetic to him.

He missed Red. He missed their late-night conversations, and the challenge of worming a smile or bout of laughter from him. He missed the way Red hummed absentmindedly whenever he was lost in thought, staring at the stars. He missed how warm and _safe_ Cyan felt with Red, even when things were falling down all around them.

Cyan missed Red. 

But it was Cyan’s fault Red was gone. He was he the one to banish Red away, and by becoming a ghost, Red was going above the call of duty to uphold his promise that Cyan would not see him again.

Even if Cyan _did_ see him again, he didn’t know how he’d react. Would he forget his misgivings about Red – ~~he _killed_ Green _, but what about Pink_? Was Pink his victim as well? How many Impostors were on the ship? Did Purple count since they lied? What was an Impostor really?~~ _–_ and kiss him? Slap him for the turmoil he’d put Cyan though? Demand answers?

He didn’t know. 

The only bright spot had been Orange. She was rough around the edges, but since she and Cyan were the only Engineers on board, they were often together working on tasks. Cleaning filters, restarting the reactor, unlocking manifolds, emptying trash and so much more.

It felt like busy work – even if some of the things they did were vital for the ship to continue – but Cyan didn’t mind. He wanted busy work currently. It took his mind off things. Most of the time, anyways.

“Stupid thing.” Orange muttered as she whacked the distributor. Cyan rolled his eyes and sighed. He rested his head on one hand while he twirled the discarded wires he had braided earlier when Orange first started the task.

Per Black’s orders, no one was supposed to be left alone anymore for any reason. Which meant that despite Cyan having finished his Tasks in Electrical already, he still had to stick around for Orange to finish. 

And of course, today the distributor was having a fit.

Long ago he had given up the thought that she’d be finished anytime soon and so had resigned himself to a fate of sitting on the cold, hard ground braiding discarded cut wires from the all the wire repair work they had to do.

And listening to Orange complain. About everything. 

“I just don’t understand what anybody is thinking,” Orange continued. She whacked the distributor again. Privately, Cyan wondered how hitting the thing was supposed to fix it. “We’d get our Tasks done faster if Black just let us split up some.”

This was not the first time that she had said as much. 

“Or paired us with Security.” That too was nothing new. “I mean, I know you and Red broke up for whatever stupid reason, but they could have paired you with someone else.”

…and that right there was the blessing and curse of working with Orange.

She was Red’s academy friend. She _knew_ Red and had been one of the more avid supporters of the relationship between Red and Cyan.

So while Cyan hadn’t heard _from_ Red, he had certainly heard _about_ Red. She had made her feelings on the breakup quite well known. Most notably by slamming her breakfast tray down by Cyan two days after the breakup and demanding, quite loudly: "What the Stars, Cyan?"

She paused in her abuse of the distributor to look at him. “He’s worried about you, you know.”

Cyan resolutely did not look her. He just stared down at his wires as he continued to braid them. Pink over Red and under Blue. Red over Blue and under Pink. Blue over Pink and under Red. And so on and so on. 

He didn’t doubt that Red was worried. But he doubted _what_ Red was worried about.

After all, Cyan knew that Red killed Green. And Red knew that Cyan knew. 

And if Cyan was honest, he probably _should_ tell someone about Red. He hadn’t spoken with Black really since the mission started, but he had a feeling that Black would trust Cyan over Red. He could tell Black about Red and the whole crew would be safe – from Red, at least. 

Then Purple could cure Cyan, and then BAM! No more Impostors in their crew.

But…

How could he do that to Red when ~~he still felt for Red~~ the only reason he killed Green was to protect Cyan and there was no proof that Pink’s death had been Red’s doing? Purple had _lied_ to Red to protect Cyan, but that wasn’t an option in Red’s case.

Could Cyan forgive him? Or at the very least move past it?

“I know you two were only together for like, a short while, but the time you two were together? That was the happiest I think I’ve seen either of you.” 

That was something new from Orange. He blinked as he looked up at her, furrowing his eyebrows. “You never even met me before this mission,” Cyan protested. “How could you know?”

“Black had. Purple and… Pink had.” Orange shrugged. It had gotten easier to talk about Pink, although Cyan still found himself slipping up and using current tense occasionally. “Pink had been wondering if you were seeing someone on the ship. He had a betting ring with I think Brown and Green about who it was.” 

“They also had a betting ring about who was with Red.” Cyan vaguely remembered Green talking about it before Pink’s body was discovered. “You talked to Black about Red and I?”

Orange hummed. “Sometimes.” She sighed and whacked the distributor again before sinking to the ground beside Cyan. “He and I were assigned to the same crew when we encountered our first Impostor, and we’ve been stuck together ever since. I’m probably one of the only people on this ship that he actually trusts.”

“And you know Red. Who he doesn’t.”

“Oh no.” Orange laughed. “He hates Red. I think he kinda hopes Red is an Impostor so he can airlock him himself.” She leaned over and shoulder checked Cyan. “I think it’s because Red’s obviously sweet on you.”

Wait. What?

“What do I have to do with anything?” Cyan asked.

She leaned back so she was supporting her weight on her arms and raised a single eyebrow as she looked at him. “Seriously?” She asked, and when he didn’t have a response, she shook her head. “Wow.” The way she dragged out the word kind of bothered Cyan. “I thought you and Black went like, way back.”

“We do!” Cyan said. “But he doesn’t like me like that. Or at least, I didn’t think he did? Does he like me like that?!” Because if he did, Cyan was not going to have it. Having _one_ Security officer like Cyan was enough.

Besides, with Cyan’s current luck, Black would end up being an Impostor too.

“He thinks of you like a younger brother,” Orange said. “And honestly, after hanging with you, I can see where he gets it. You’re like an annoying little brainslug that’s just so cute crewmates can’t help but like you.”

Cyan wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. 

“In any case,” She waved her hand in the air like she could just brush the topic aside, “He didn’t like that Red’s liked you since, oh, pretty much the moment Red saw you take off your helmet.”

Since the moment Red saw him with his helmet off? Really? That was how long Red had liked Cyan? Those stupid bugs in his stomach were back. 

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m in a position to bother both Red and Black, duh. And after you two got together, of course I had to do some digging. It was… a nice distraction from, you know, everything.”

Oh. Yeah, because the day he and Red finally ‘got together’ was the day that Pink was found… murdered. Of course crewmates would look into what seemed like the only spot of happiness on the ship as a distraction. 

And as a longtime friend of Red, a trusted confidant of Black, and Cyan’s engineering partner, Orange was in a prime position to really get into it all. Even things that Cyan hadn’t been aware of, like Black’s reservations about Red being _because_ of Cyan.

Why were so many people on this ship so focused on doing things _for_ Cyan that he _never asked them to do?_

“And it made sense,” Orange continued. “I had noticed that Red had been in a better mood. I just didn’t know it was because of his late night talks with you. And Black noticed _you_ seemed to be happier too. He was really worried by how upset you seemed when this mission started.”

Cyan didn’t really have a response for that. It was true, he had felt happier with Red. But how much of that had actually been him? How much of it had been the Impostor inside him? Had it somehow _known_ that Red was an Impostor? 

He didn’t even know what type of Impostor Red was. Everyone said the Impostor was human based on the kills – including Red’s only confirmed kill – but Cyan wasn’t convinced. Red had known too much about the parasite to be just a human Impostor.

Then again, Purple was human and he knew about it. Maybe someone on one of Red’s past crews had told him?

Argh. This was why Cyan didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about Red and his stupid pretty face, and the sweet way he curled around Cyan all protectively, and their long late night talks playing stupid question games that no one else would indulge Cyan with.

“What did he do?” Orange asked. She leaned forward and put her hand on Cyan’s knee. “He won’t tell me. Only that it was his fault.” 

Red killed Green. 

To protect Cyan.

But Cyan never asked him to. Never wanted him to.

And now Cyan had to live with that. Live with the fact that Red had _killed_ to protect him. _“I’d do anything for you.”_ And would kill again if it meant protecting Cyan. 

Both Orange and Cyan’s watches beeped to remind them of Lunch, and Orange brightened. “Lunch time! Perfect!” There was something about her grin that Cyan didn’t like. “Let’s go!” She grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him up.

“But what about the distributor?”

“I’ll worry about it later.” She continued to grin at him. The grin didn’t fade, even when they made it to the cafeteria, and she grabbed two salads and a… protein shake? Whatever floated her ship, he supposed. Cyan grabbed a sandwich that looked like it had mystery meat on it for himself.

“C’mon.” Orange said, taking the tray and drink and nodding to the door that led to the medbay hallway.

“We’re not supposed to eat outside of the cafeteria.”

“Please. We’re Black’s favorites.” He was? “Besides, you’re going to let me wander the halls? All by myself?” She blinked ‘innocently’ at him. 

“Uh…” Cyan looked down. “I…”

She looped her free arm around Cyan’s and tugged him to the door. “C’mon.” 

He had a bad feeling about this. Not like an actual bad feeling, but more like a suspicion that Orange was up to no good. And that no good likely involved him and either Black or Red.

Oh, Stars, he hoped it wasn’t Red. He didn’t know what he’d do if he saw Red again. ~~Kiss him, slap him, stare.~~ Cyan let out a noise and with slumped shoulders, nodded. “Fine.” 

That bad feeling only seemed to grow more and more as Orange led them past the upper engines and down the hallway to the reactor. She stopped in front of the security room. 

“Orange, no. I don’t think—”

She knocked on the door, waited maybe half a second, and barged in. “ _Reeeeed~”_ She sung out, and then paused upon seeing the slumped form of Red on the desk. 

For a brief moment, Cyan’s heart stopped as he thought that Red was… dead. But there was no blood dripping down to the floor, no wounds on him. Orange shook her head and he wondered if she had thought the same thing.

“Sleeping on the job?” She asked in the same sing-song tone. Red responded in what could have been a groan or a moan… or maybe some strange combination of both.

“Just moping.” Black’s voice came from elsewhere in the room. Cyan peered in to see Black sitting at the desk with the security cameras. He was leaning back with his face pointed towards the ceiling. “He’s been like this since…” Black spun the chair around and trailed off as he noticed Cyan.

“Since?” Orange prompted with a grin. She placed the protein shake down with a loud thump right by Red’s head. Red flinched. 

Black looked between her, Red, and Cyan. He cleared his throat. “Since the breakup.”

“What do I have to pay you to shut up about it?” Red’s voice was already muffled from the helmet he was wearing, but it was even worse when he had his head buried in his arms and was face down into a desk. 

That didn’t mean it didn’t affect Cyan. His mouth felt dry and the stupid winged bugs were back – again – in his stomach. 

“Well,” Black drawled. He looked between Cyan, Orange, and Red again before continuing, “You could always tell me why he broke up with you.” Orange practically beamed at him as she skipped over to give him one of the salads.

“Go airlock yourself.”

“Right back at you.”

“Boys, boys,” Orange interrupted. “You’re both pretty.” She wasn’t wrong. There was a reason Black had been one of Cyan’s first crushes so long ago. 

Red sighed and sat up to unclasp his helmet. “Why do you care, anyways?” He asked, once it was off. 

“Because I care about Cyan. And if you hurt him, then I’m going to –”

“What?” Red turned to look at Black. Cyan froze. If Red turned just the slightest bit more, he would see Cyan. If Cyan moved, it would attract Red’s attention. “Airlock me?” Red guessed. “Try something I _haven’t_ heard before.”

Red snagged the protein shake and took a long draw from the straw. Cyan’s gaze dropped to his throat, where, if the ~~stupid~~ suit wasn’t in the way, Cyan would have been able to see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

He felt distinctly uncomfortable. And not just because he was someplace he had never been before – not since those first few missions that he shared with Black. His mouth felt dry and those bugs in his stomach had become more active.

Orange lounged against the wall just out of Red’s immediate eye line, but well within Cyan’s. She smirked as she caught his eye. She didn’t have to say anything for Cyan to practically hear her smug laughter. 

“Well if _you_ won’t tell me…” Black shrugged and looked over at Cyan. 

It took a second, but Red’s entire body tensed. Red practically fumbled his protein shake as he spun the chair around just a little bit more to see Cyan. His eyes were wide and startled, his jaw dropped down just the tiniest bit. 

“Cyan.” 

Cyan couldn’t help but to shudder at the way Red said his name. It was spoken so fervently and softly, like he thought Cyan was something delicate that would shatter at the sound of his own name. He wouldn’t lie, some part of him loved the way Red said his name. 

Just like some part of him loved the way Red was drinking him in. 

It lasted just for a moment, and then the walls were back up. Red put his drink down on the table. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go do a patrol.” He stood up, put his helmet back on, and then side stepped past Cyan without touching Cyan at all. 

“Well that was awkward.” Orange snagged Red’s abandoned protein shake and took a sip. She wrinkled her nose and put it right back. “I’ve never seen Red run away so quickly before. And I’ve dealt with a fair share of his exes.”

“That was…” Black leaned back in his chair. “…interesting. I’m curious as to what kind of breakup prompts _that_ response.”

“A breakup that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Orange supplied. She poured dressing over her salad before spearing some and shoving it in her mouth. 

“Did he hurt you, Cyan?” Black asked, ignoring Orange.

Cyan shook his head, not trusting his words or voice. No. Red hadn’t hurt _him_. He hurt _Green_. And now _Cyan_ had hurt _Red_. Because that was what this whole interaction had shown him. 

Cyan wasn’t sure how much of him liking Red had been the parasite’s influence, but there was no denying that Red had really, genuinely, liked Cyan. Even if it was a parasite thing – and that would be assuming that Red was also infected by a parasite – Red hadn’t known that Cyan was infected until just before he killed Green.

But that didn’t change the fact that Red had killed someone for Cyan and would likely kill again.

“Cyan?” Black’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” Cyan choked out. He looked over his shoulder at the now empty hallway and debated running after Red. But what would he do? What would he say? 

Red’s feelings, genuine or not, didn’t change anything. He still killed Green. To protect Cyan. And wasn’t that something that people who cared about each other did? Try to protect the other? He shook his head. 

“No.” He repeated, although he wasn’t sure if he was saying that to himself or Black. 

“He went down to the lower engines,” Orange said. Black shot her a look, and she shrugged. “What? Just letting him know.” 

Cyan stomach let out a growl and he shook his head again. “I’m… I’m going to go eat in the medbay with Purple.” He didn’t want to go to the cafeteria where he’d have to hear Brown and be around Yellow and probably White. He definitely didn’t want to stay here.

“…I’ll watch you on the cameras,” Black said, which was probably the closest Cyan was going to get to permission. Cyan nodded and darted out of the office. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by [pesky_poltergeist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pesky_poltergeist/)!

He closed the doors to the medbay behind him. If he was going to be spending time with Purple, then he was going to be asking questions. Questions that the others didn’t need to hear.

It was just for peace of mind. It said that he was safe to speak without fear of being overheard. It marked alone time with Purple, who he _knew_ wouldn’t hurt him. Purple hadn’t even killed anyone for him.

Just lied to Red. ~~But wasn’t lying just the beginning? Did Cyan know _two_ Impostors on this ship? But Purple _couldn’t_ have killed Pink.~~

He tossed his helmet and bagged sandwich to the nearest bed and leaned back against the door. Purple didn’t even look up from where they were analyzing samples.

“Black,” Purple snapped, “I don’t need a chaperone. I don’t care how suspicious that makes me sound.”

“Not Black.” Cyan took a deep breath – it still smelled of blood under the sterile chemicals, but less so now that time had passed – and bounced off the door. “He’s just worried. Has he come to visit much?”

“Only twice a day, every day. If I’m lucky.” Purple sighed and as they leaned back, their back popped enough times that Cyan winced. It wasn’t healthy for Purple to stay cooped up in the medbay working on a cure for Cyan.

But Purple felt guilty over Cyan being infected, and well… it wasn’t like Cyan was going to say ‘no’ to a chance to be healed, to be cured. He didn’t want to become an Impostor. He didn’t want to lose himself to the _Hunger_ and the violence and the need to kill. 

“When was the last time you slept?” Cyan asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“I’m too close to a breakthrough,” Purple dodged the question. They looked over at Cyan. “You look like you haven’t been getting much sleep yourself.”

He hadn’t. Before, when the nightmares got too bad, all he needed to do was go find Red. They would talk or stargaze for a little bit and by the time Cyan got back to bed, his sleep would be dreamless. Now? Now he just sat and stared at his walls or at his hands or curled up in the shower and cried. 

The _Hunger_ had been getting worse too. Especially after the nightmares. 

And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the nightmares themselves hadn’t changed as well. Now, instead of it being Lime standing over Blue, it was this crew superimposed over them. Or worse, it was something entirely new and imagined. 

The most recent nightmare had featured him watching Pink through the grates of a vent in the Communications office despite _knowing_ that there were no vents there. The taste of blood when he ripped Pink to shreds had been _so real_ , and when he woke up, he had realized he had bitten the inside of his cheek hard enough to bleed.

“Nightmares.” Cyan shrugged and then offered Purple a smile that he hoped was reassuring. “Nothing new there.”

Purple hummed and steepled their fingers together. “I wonder if the nightmares might be some sort of subconscious manifestation trying to warn you of the infestation? Or maybe it’s the Parasite trying to communicate with you, conveying it’s desires through dreams?” 

Cyan started, blinking at Purple as his mind tried to wrap around the words. Were his dreams from himself, trying to warn him? Or was it the parasite? Could it be a combination of both? How was Cyan to know?

“I... don’t know.”

“Is it still the same dream? Where Blue’s body immobilizes Lime so that you can finish him off?”

His entire body flinched. He curled into himself, trying to make himself appear small – which wasn’t terribly difficult when one was already the shortest crewmate – and unassuming under Purple’s speculative gaze.

“Does it matter?” He asked, picking at the sheet of the bed.

“In the name of science, every detail and data point matters.” Purple sighed. “But I suppose for the intent of finding a cure… no. No, it does not.” Purple turned back to his samples just long enough to grab a clipboard. “Speaking of data, I am glad that you’re here. It saves me the trouble of finding you later.” 

“What did you want?”

“Just the answer to a few questions.” Purple smiled at him, and their glasses flashed in the light.

Just to answer a few questions… yes, that was the habit lately. But Cyan had kind of, sort of thought that Purple was done. How many more questions could they have to ask?

Yes, Cyan understood Purple’s position. While Blue had theorized about the parasite, there had been no way to do any real tests. And, to Purple’s knowledge, there were no cognizant, socially functioning victims of the parasite. 

That made Cyan something _special_ and _important_ to the research on the Impostor Parasite. 

Purple had already gone over this with Cyan. More than once. And yet anytime they got into one of these questioning segments, minor alarm bells went off in Cyan’s head. But Purple was Cyan’s only real source of information.

And it was only fair to exchange said information. Cyan answered Purple’s questions, and in turn, Purple answered Cyan’s. 

So despite his general unease over the way Purple looked at him, and his feelings on the questions, he nodded at Purple to continue. He told himself that he was probably just overreacting or reading too much into it. Or maybe it was the parasite trying to make him doubt Purple so that he couldn’t be cured. 

Still, Cyan was curious. “What’s up?”

Purple smiled and adjusted their glasses. “As we discussed previously, most recorded victims of the parasite succumb to the parasite’s base nature to eat and procreate.” Cyan did not recall anything about procreation. “It manages to reign in that nature just long enough to seclude itself with the prey-crew. Once secluded, it cannot help but to act on those baser natures.” 

“Procreate?” Cyan repeated. The eat thing he could understand based off his own experiences, but _procreate_? Was that why he was so attracted to Red?

“Oh.” Purple blinked at him. “I had thought we covered that grizzly business. Once it has fed, it infects the corpse. If compatible, the corpse becomes a host and begins the cycle anew.”

…that had not been brought up before. The closest thing they had gone into with that was how it needed to get into the bloodstream in order to infect someone. 

But, more relieving about this disgusting topic was the fact that it was in no way, shape, or form related to his feeling towards Red. At all. He was _hungry_ with Red, but it wasn’t like that. Maybe… maybe his feelings for Red _were_ all his own. And it just happened to be Cyan’s luck that Red was a human Impostor who happened to know about the Impostor Parasite.

There was just one tiny little problem with what Purple was describing. “I’m pretty sure people would notice shambling parasite corpses, Purple.” He laughed, trying to play off Purple’s words like they were a joke. 

“You’re right,” Purple laughed along. “I’m sure they would if that was what they looked like. You remember how I talked about the parasite replacing the cells, right?” 

Cyan blinked, not understanding until it finally, _finally_ clicked. “It rebuilds the bodies?” He gasped, all previous humor lost to horror.

So, if he wasn’t cured… then even dead it would continue to use him as a puppet. As a matter of fact, it was better for the Parasite if he _did_ go ahead and space himself. Lime was _not_ right. Death was not a kinder fate.

“Indeed,” Purple confirmed, and oh. Oh wow. Cyan felt… ill. If he wasn’t cured, if he didn’t get better, then he was going to turn into a monster _even if_ he died. At least before he thought death was an option to escape this fate.

“While it is possible that your nightmare is merely that, I believe it is the parasite trying to communicate with you. Perhaps trying to explain the situation.” They paused and readjusted their glasses again. “As a matter of fact, I theorize that if we were to turn around and return to Polus, we would find Blue’s grave empty. Which is most fascinating if only because Blue’s research showed that killing a living host should kill the parasite as well.”

“But that can’t be the case,” Cyan realized. “Because of me. If Blue’s parasite died when he did… I wouldn’t have been infected.”

The topics that they were talking about had soured him for eating, but his stomach still growled. Purple raised an eyebrow. “Does this topic make you _hunger_ , Cyan?”

“No!” Cyan shook his head. “I just… haven’t eaten lunch yet.” 

Purple hummed and picked back up the clipboard to make a note. Cyan wished they hadn’t. “There’s still so much we don’t understand.” Purple shook his head down at the clipboard. “And like I said, you’re the most cognizant, socially functioning infected I’ve met.” 

That Purple was aware of. Blue had certainly seemed cognizant up until Lime murdered him.

Cyan kept that comment to himself and looked down at his lap. 

“The answers we could get from you…” Purple sighed and trailed off.

Cyan swallowed thickly. He knew he shouldn’t ask, but… he was curious. And it wasn’t like Purple could dump anything _more_ disturbing than they already had. The infected corpse thing was… gross. And if that really was the case, he suddenly understood the procedure of spacing the dead bodies of murder victims. 

He couldn’t imagine if he saw Pink _dead_ , and then Pink was up and among the crew, _killing and eating them._

It also gave Cyan the peace of mind that Red _wasn’t_ a parasite Impostor. Purple said that bar Cyan – perhaps because he was still changing – all infected hosts gave into the Parasite’s base nature of murder and spreading. Red had _only_ killed once, and it was for Cyan. 

The body hadn’t even been eaten. And he severely doubted that the parasite had regenerated the cells of Green’s body that quickly.

“Like what?”

Purple looked up from the clipboard to give Cyan a searching look. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly ask you to help with this research. After all, you’re already contributing so much to finding a cure.”

“But…” Cyan nibbled on his lip. “You said that I could help answer questions. I’m a rare opportunity, Purple.”

“You’re right,” Purple conceded with a small smile. “You’re right. Alright then, just a few questions. It’s theorized that the parasite has heightened senses. A better sense of smell, night vision—”

“Yes.” Cyan nodded. Purple’s eyes lit up as they made another note on their clipboard. Then they gestured for Cyan to continue. Unease settled over Cyan like a cape, but he nodded. “I can smell… it’s faded, and the chemicals are stronger, but I can smell… Green.”

“Still?” Purple blinked. “Fascinating. Is it limited to the scent of blood, or could you smell the food in the cafeteria from here? Can you smell the soap I used?”

“I…” Cyan wrapped his arms around himself. He shook his head. “Just the blood.” 

“And any other senses?”

“Night vision, I guess. Sometimes the ‘day’ lights are too bright, and the ‘night’ lights look like ‘day’ lights.”

Purple nodded. “Light sensitivity sounds right. What about other Impostors?”

“E-excuse me?” Cyan stuttered. His mind immediately ran to Red and he wondered if Purple suspected…

“Can you sense other Impostors? It’s thought that parasite Impostors can sense other parasite Impostors. They tend to kill one another, you know? Fighting for territory and food.” 

Oh, well that was completely different. He let out a sigh and shook his head. “No! Nothing like that.”

His feelings for Red were bizarre, but apparently entirely his own. He didn’t want to kill Red, or anything like that. For as horrible as this conversation was, it was reassuring at least for that. 

“Pity.” Purple put down their clipboard with a sigh. They ran their hand through their hair. Cyan realized it wasn’t nearly as gelled as it usually was. “I was hoping to discover who killed Pink and Green.”

Well, Cyan knew the answer to half of that. “Do you have an idea of who the Impostor is?”

“Now that I know it’s not another Impostor Parasite,” Purple tapped their pen against the desk. “It has to be one of the Security crewmates. They have the most freedom on the ship to kill.” They glanced at Cyan sharply. “If you knew, you’d tell, wouldn’t you?”

Cyan felt like he couldn’t swallow around the knot in his throat. He nodded and weakly choked out “of course.”

Purple didn’t look like they believed Cyan. And why should they? Cyan was never good at lies. They stared at Cyan in silence, but Cyan refused to give up Red. Red kept _his_ secret, he could keep Red’s. And besides, there was no proof that Red killed Pink.

“I would hope so.” Purple finally spoke, and their voice sounded oddly calm and measured. “After all, this is the person who murdered Pink. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

Cyan flinched and wrenched his hands in his lap. “I would tell if I found who killed Pink.” 

Purple’s expression softened slightly. “Good.” They nodded. “Now, back to the que—”

The sample analyzer beeped and Purple sat straight up, cutting themselves off to spin around and study the results. They grinned as they looked over at Cyan. “This is fantastic! I believe I’ve found a solution that seems to have promising effects on what’s left of your blood.”

What was left of Cyan’s blood. Just how many tests had Purple been running?

Cyan nodded. The knot in his throat seemed to get bigger. The cloak of unease felt heavier. Like it was trying to press Cyan down and immobilize him. 

“Of course, I’m at the limit of what I can test with this serum with your blood alone,” Purple continued. They turned back to their results. “But this all looks so very _promising_.”

The word ‘promising’ echoed in Cyan’s head like one of the numerous alarms on the ship. If this was promising then… what if it was what Cyan needed? Who knew how much longer he had until he was completely consumed? 

“What if you used me?” Cyan asked. Every ounce of his body was telling him not to, but… he _trusted_ Purple. Purple would never intentionally hurt him and would certainly never allow it if they thought it could hurt Cyan.

Purple looked up with a tight face. Cyan told himself it was just paranoia that there was a gleam of _something_ in Purple’s eye that looked like satisfaction. “Oh no, Cyan.” Purple shook their head. “I couldn’t. I’ll figure something out with your blood.”

“But you’re at the limit of what you can test there, right?” Cyan asked. It was what Purple had just said, wasn’t it? “And if this could cure me… you’ll need to test it on me at some point.”

Purple was quiet for a moment before nodding. “You’re quite right, Cyan.” They pulled out one of the fluorescent light blue vials from the sample analyzer and transferred it to a syringe. They tapped the side of it to get the air bubbles to rise and then squirted some of it out. “I’ll need you to tell me of any and all side-effects, understand?”

“…Of course.” 

Purple smiled. “Wonderful. Go ahead and strip off enough for me to get to your upper arm, please.”

Cyan’s fingers fumbled on the zippers and clasps of the suit, but he pulled it down after a moment. The air of the medbay felt too cold against him. He rolled up the white undertee and then looked away as Purple pushed the needle in.

Cyan felt like his upper arm spasmed as Purple injected the serum, but he wasn’t looking to verify if that had happened, and Purple didn’t say anything. Heat – unexpected considering the light blue color of the serum – pooled at the injection site.

He wouldn’t say that it didn’t hurt, per say, because it did; but not any more than any vaccine that Mira required of their employees. It just burned a little, that was all. 

“There.” Purple put the syringe down and reached into their lab coat pocket to pull out a band aid. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” They cooed as they put the band aid on.

Cyan shook his head. The burn had started to slowly radiate out from where he’d been injected, but it was more uncomfortable than anything, and Cyan was willing to accept discomfort if it meant a cure.

“How do you feel?”

Cyan redressed and rotated his shoulder. “Fine, I guess.” 

“Any discomfort?” Purple had returned to their clipboard. They look glanced between it and Cyan, and the look in their eye reminded Cyan of _hunger_. Except unlike with Red, this hunger didn’t excite Cyan at all. As a matter of fact, it slightly scared him. 

“Slight burning.” 

Purple nodded. “I’d like to keep you here for monitoring.” 

“No.” Cyan shook his head. “I’m Orange’s partner, and—”

“But if what if you have any adverse side effects?” Purple pointed out. “Orange would be ill equipped to treat you. I’ll have a talk with Black and tell him that you had a bad reaction to the sandwich and that I’m keeping you in medbay to make sure it’s just a stomach illness.”

Cyan frowned. He didn’t want to just leave Orange alone for the rest of the day, but… Purple wasn’t wrong. Orange wouldn’t know what to do if Cyan started to have a bad reaction. “Just for today?”

Purple nodded. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay.” Purple tossed the syringe in the biohazard bin, and then came over to rest a hand on Cyan’s shoulder. “The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

Cyan blinked and the doors to the medbay slipped shut with a hiss. He shook his head, suddenly feeling very lethargic and tired. Maybe Purple was right to keep him in the medbay. He could use the opportunity to catch up on some sleep.

A nap did sound good.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by [pesky_poltergeist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pesky_poltergeist/)!

The maintenance building of the Polus outpost didn’t drip blood anymore, but rather slimy, oozing darkness streaked with bright light blue. There were flickering lights underneath the slime, which sometimes made the ooze seem almost iridescent. 

It would have been hauntingly beautiful if it wasn’t so horrifying.

Blue’s body, or at least the remains of it, lay in a wide gaping pool of black, deep and dark enough to look like a giant gaping maw. The remains quivered anytime the blue and black slime dripped onto it or into the pool. 

Cyan could understand why as the ooze dripped onto him. For some bizarre reason, he was missing his oversuit, and his skin hissed and bubbled anytime the slime came into contact with him. He tried to rub it off, but it just left thick black burning streaks. 

The logical response would have been to leave, but Lime stood at the doorway with that wicked long knife. But he wasn’t holding it threateningly. In fact, he looked more sorrowful than anything, like he was upset about what he was doing.

“Death is a kinder fate,” Lime whispered as the slime from the ceiling oozed onto his helmet. 

Cyan took a step back, away from Lime. His shoe made a horrifying squelch as he slipped on the dark pool under Blue’s body. 

In the doorway to the outdoor electrical area, Purple’s glasses reflected light blue as they took notes on their clipboard. There was no place for Cyan to go. Lime and Purple blocked the only quick exits out of the room. 

“What’s it going to be, Cyan? You know what I’d choose. Death is a kinder fate, I can promise ya that.” Lime twirled the knife around. 

“No.” Purple disagreed. “There’s so much to study and learn. You know I won’t hurt you.”

Cyan shook his head and took another step back. Again, there was that disgusting sound, but this time when he looked down, Blue’s remains were gone, and it was just _him_ standing in the middle of the puddle. 

“This way,” Blue’s voice hissed from the hole in the ground in the corner that kept popping up anytime Cyan filled it in. “It’s _safe_ here.” Blue’s voice didn’t sound right. There was this strange slithering echo to it that sent chills down Cyan’s spine. Besides… Blue was _dead_ , right? So then… what was in the hole in the ground?

More slime oozed onto Cyan, and he hissed as it burned. “We should take a look at that reaction,” Purple commented, still writing on that clipboard. 

“You should make a choice, Cyan,” Lime continued to spin the knife. “You want me to give you a kinder fate? You want to go Blue’s route? Or do you want to be a research specimen for Purple? Like I said, I know which I’d choose.”

“Cyan,” Purple called to him, Blue hissed from the vent, and Lime sung. “Cyan, Cyan, Cyan.”

He didn’t want any of those choices. He just wanted to be him. He just… “You can still be you.”

No. 

No, Red was never at Polus. Had never been here before. Cyan’s whole body jerked as he looked to the hallway he had forgotten. The one that led to the Southwest Corner of the outpost and the Tree Room. The one that led to Cyan’s escape. 

Red was leaning against the wall, watching Cyan. Unlike the others, he wasn’t blocking the way. Nor was he calling on Cyan to make a choice. Cyan thought his choices were to die, become a test subject, or submit to the Parasite. Yet here was Red offering what Cyan wanted: to be himself.

His dark eyes reflected the bright light blue streaks of the slime, but in Red’s eyes, it looked like comet trails outside the ship, like the promise of a wish coming true.

“You can still be you,” Red repeated. “You’re stronger than it. You control it, not the other way around.”

He could hear the others continue to call for him, but their voices seemed to fade into the background as he took a step.

And woke up falling out of his bunk. His body felt like it was burning up, like he was a comet burning as it entered an atmosphere. He groaned as he pressed his forehead to the cold metal of the ship’s floor. 

He knew he had a nightmare, but already it was fading into the back of his mind. His hands shook as he forced himself up off the floor. The world spun until he steadied himself against the wall.

He’d taken three shots of that serum from Purple, and he only needed two more before things would get better. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. When he had mentioned how bad the burning had been getting last night after getting the third injection, Purple had only joked, “No pain, no gain, right?”

That had been the most painful injection yet, and despite Cyan’s feelings that it was only going to get worse, Purple had just reminded him, “Only two more to go.”

He kept that steady mantra throughout the day as he stumbled through his tasks. More than once, Orange had needed to step in and help him. 

“I thought your nightly visits to Purple were supposed to be about _helping_ you sleep better.” She might have been complaining, but there was legitimate worry in her voice. 

In the back of Cyan’s mind, Lime whispered, _“Death is a kinder fate.”_ He wished Lime would shut up for once.

“Don’t worry. This is just a rough patch.” He smiled at her, trying his hardest to reassure her. It wasn’t like he was wrong; this was just a rough patch. Once he got through his fifth shot, it would be all smooth sailing from there. Purple had been sure of it. 

They had been taking blood tests daily since the injections started, and they were confident that so long as the injections weren’t interrupted, then by injection five, the worst of it would be over and Cyan would be practically cured.

Practically, because the only thing that Purple was completely sure about was that it would be ‘smooth sailing’ after the fifth injection.

His upper arm spasmed where Purple injected him, and he resisted the urge to claw at himself by rubbing instead. 

Orange continued to frown despite his reassurance. “Maybe you should go see them earlier tonight? I can take over the rest of your tasks so you can get more rest.”

It was touching that Orange was willing to do that but Cyan couldn’t do that to her. “I couldn’t.” He shook his head. 

“You can.” She put down the wires and pushed him away. “And you will. You’re practically useless right now. Go on to the medbay. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Cyan nibbled on his lip before nodding. She was right. He was useless right now and he was just causing her more trouble. He headed to the medbay, crossing through Weapons and the cafeteria. 

Purple looked up as he walked in, and then down at their watch. “Is it really that time already?”

“Orange sent me. She said I needed more rest.” Cyan forced a smile and a chuckle. “Like I don’t get enough as it is.” Which wasn’t wrong, exactly. The serum tended to make Cyan drowsy, which was why Purple had taken to giving it to him at the end of the shift.

Purple frowned slightly. “Are the nightmares still getting worse?”

Cyan wrapped his arms around himself but didn’t respond. Purple’s frown grew. “I see. Well then, good thing there’s only one shot after this one.”

“And then it’s smooth sailing from there, right?” Cyan asked.

Purple’s glassed flashed as they nodded. They filled up a syringe.

Cyan obediently went to his customary bed and stripped off his upper layers to allow Purple access to his arm. He tried not to look at too much. Since getting the injections, dark veins had been present on his upper arm.

The dark marks reminded Cyan of the Lichtenberg figures he had gotten after accidently electrocuting himself in the Academy. Except those marks had only lasted a few days before fading away, whereas these seemed pretty keen on staying so long as he was receiving the serum.

“Remember, the burning sensation is expected.”

“I _know_ , Purple.”

Purple nodded, and then pressed the needle in. And of course, that was when the emergency meeting alarms went off. Purple’s hand jolted, and Cyan hissed as the needle jabbed him elsewhere in the arm than Purple intended.

“What the?” Purple stared at the blinking lights before realizing where they were and what they were doing and pulling the needle out. Cyan’s hand shook as he went to the injection site and held it, like that could help stop the _pain_. “I am so sorry, Cyan. The alarm—”

“It’s fine.” Cyan grit out. “Let’s go before they think we’re suspicious.” He pulled up his suit, not caring to get a band aid, and then snapped on his helmet. Between the flashing lights and the blaring alarm, the normally short walk to the cafeteria felt like it took forever.

Like Cyan predicted, the burning was worse, but now it _hurt_. The world seemed to be spinning with every blare of the alarm. 

Taking a seat at the cafeteria table was practically a blessing. Purple took the seat next to him. “What’s going on?” He heard them ask.

“Yellow’s dead.” White didn’t bother sugarcoating the words or trying to mince them to make anyone feel better. Her voice was just as hard and tense as it had been any other meeting. 

Across the table, Red’s gaze was turned downwards, his face hidden by his helmet. His one hand above the table was curled into a tight fist. Yellow had been with Red on his last mission, Cyan recalled. Part of him wanted to stretch out across the table and hold Red’s hand to comfort him, but the idea of moving was almost too much. 

“Do we have any leads?” Black asked. 

“Are we sure they were murdered?” Red asked when no one answered Black. “They said they couldn’t do this anymore.”

“That’s a suspicious question, isn’t it?” White asked. “Maybe _you killed them_.” 

“He couldn’t have! I was with him in the security room just now,” Orange protested. That was weird, hadn’t she been in weapons doing Cyan’s work? He supposed she could have made it to Security by time the meeting went off. “Black was with us!”

“I was,” Black confirmed. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Red.”

“What is your deal with me?” Red snapped. “Yellow was _my friend_.” 

“Perfect to throw suspicion off you.” White shrugged. Cyan thought it was rather callous of her, but then again, that seemed to be White’s default. 

“It wasn’t Red!” Orange shouted. “Who found the body? Because if it was Brown, I find that suspicious. Yellow complained to me about how they felt like Brown was blaming them and Purple for Green’s death.”

“What?!” Purple shouted. “That’s preposterous! I would never purposefully hurt a crewmate!”

He wanted to speak on Purple’s defense, but he was afraid that if he spoke, he would be sick. The burning was so hot he felt like his arm was on fire. And the pain wasn’t localized to his arm anymore but more of _everywhere_. 

He blinked and sweat slipped down his brow into his eyes. He tried to blink past it, even as his eyes burned. Cyan watched as Black and White – at least vague blobs of their colors – seemed to look at each other.

“Who found their body?” Red asked. 

Silence reigned for a period so long, Cyan felt it was rather telling. Finally, White cleared her throat. “…it was Brown.”

“And she was Yellow’s partner, wasn’t she?” Orange asked. It sounded, to Cyan, like the hiss of an airlock being closed. As far as he knew, that was the final nail in the coffin for Brown – regardless if she killed Yellow or not. 

“She was,” Black confirmed Orange’s question. “They were both Admin, so it just made sense to stick them together.”

“And now Yellow is dead.” There was so much tense anger in Red’s voice. Cyan shivered at the sound of it. 

“It feels wrong to accuse Brown without her testimony,” Purple argued. “Where is she?”

“She was so hysterical I put her in Admin.” White’s blob seemed to look to the hallway leading to Admin, like her gaze could summon Brown. “But I don’t think it was her.”

“Then who do you think?” Black asked.

“Orange—”

“It’s not Orange,” Black interrupted. 

“—was pushing kind of hard for Brown to be accused,” White continued like Black hadn’t spoken. “And Red was Yellow’s friend. No one would suspect if he killed them because of that.”

“What the Stars, White?”

Fear bubbled up in Cyan’s chest as the words hit him. Yes, Red had killed Green. But it had been to protect Cyan. And Yellow was Red’s former crewmate. And if there was _anything_ that Cyan knew about Red, it was that he was _overprotective_. 

It couldn’t have been Red. It just didn’t make any sense.

“Both Red and I were with Black!” 

And it couldn’t have been Orange. She would never do anything like that. And for as long as she had been with Black… It just didn’t seem plausible. Unless she and Black were in on it together.

“Cyan and I were together,” Purple said. “The only unaccounted ones are you and Brown.” 

“You implying something, Doctor Suspicious?” White hissed.

“Let’s just put this to a vote,” Black suggested. He pulled out his tablet – at least, Cyan assumed he did based off the noises. Cyan followed his lead.

He stared down at the ‘vote’ feature. The Yellow, Pink, and Green blurbs were all grayed out. He stared at the options; his mind torn between the various choices. He could just skip. No one _should_ fault him for it. But…

He stared at Brown’s blur. Did he think she killed Yellow? Honestly, no. No, he didn’t. 

_“Death is a kinder fate,”_ Lime whispered in the back of Cyan’s mind. She was miserable on this ship without Green. What kind of life was that? To be miserable? And with her off the ship, Cyan wouldn’t have to listen to her sniffles and sobs. He wouldn’t have the guilt of knowing that Green was murdered _because of him_. 

Red and Orange were likely to vote for Brown. Black for Red. Who knew who White or Purple would vote for. 

He could vote for Red. White did suspect him. There would be a chance that Cyan could get at least _one guaranteed_ Impostor off the ship. 

But then what? Red would be spaced and then both Cyan and Brown would be miserable messes – more than they already were. There were a variety of beeps from across the table. 

“You need to vote, Cyan.” Purple’s hand was on his shoulder.

 _“Death is a kinder fate.”_ Cyan closed his eyes, prayed to the Stars for forgiveness, and pressed ‘Brown’.

The results – thankfully color coded – flashed a moment later. 

**_Black voted for Red._ **

**_White voted for Orange._ **

**_Purple voted to Skip._ **

**_Red, Orange, and Cyan voted for Brown._ **

**_Brown didn’t vote at all._ **

“Well,” Black cleared his throat. “That’s that.” He stood and looked to Red and White. “Who’s going to help me?”

Cyan’s eyebrows furrowed before he realized what exactly Black meant. His stomach twisted, and he felt like he was going to be sick. He tried to tell himself that even if he hadn’t voted for Brown, she would have likely been voted out.

Except if he had skipped like Purple, then there would have been a tie. And she would have been left alone.

“Someone needs to monitor the cleanup of the body.” 

“You haven’t done that yet.” Black nodded. “Thank you for volunteering, White. C’mon Red.”

“Wait, what?!” White shook her head. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Too late.” Black shrugged before heading out the cafeteria towards Admin with a stony quiet Red in tow. 

“Did… that really just happen?” Orange asked. “I feel like that didn’t just happen.”

“Says the girl who just killed Brown.” White snapped. She frowned at both Orange and Cyan. “Both of you should be ashamed.”

“Hey now!” Purple protested. “They voted for who they thought best.” 

No. Cyan’s vote had been a mercy. Brown was miserable and based on the lack of noise coming from the Admin hallway, was accepting her fate quietly and with grace. Maybe even relief. Or maybe that was just Cyan trying to feel better about his choice.

“Let’s just take care of the body. Where was it?” Orange said. 

“Navigation,” White replied. “Let’s go.”

The walk to navigation was as quiet as a funeral procession, which, Cyan supposed it was. He kept brushing against Purple as they walked, using the Researcher as a guide. The world was starting to tilt, and he was still sweating.

He still felt sick. 

“Maybe Cyan should sit this out,” Purple suggested as they turned the corner in Weapons. 

White scoffed. “Or maybe Cyan should just suck it up.”

“Don’t talk to Cyan like that!” Orange snapped. An arm was wrapped around his shoulders. The pressure and weight _hurt_ , like he couldn’t uphold her arm and himself. He quickly shrugged it away. 

“I’m fine.” He tried to assure them. 

He was not fine. But like Stars was he going to admit that to White of all people. He wished Red had been the one to come and supervise. It didn’t surprise him that Red hadn’t. After all, Red avoided Cyan like the plague.

Just like he should. Cyan was _dangerous_.

~~Red was more dangerous. Red had killed someone. They really were meant for each other, weren’t they?~~

“We should take care of the body first,” Orange said before they reached Navigation. “Cyan should stay and start cleaning up. Purple, you help me out, while White follows us.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving Cyan alone.” Purple shook their head.

“He’ll be fine,” White snapped. “I don’t like the idea of leaving anyone with Orange alone.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll stay.” Cyan managed to say. 

He swallowed the saliva in his mouth, and briefly wondered why he was suddenly practically drooling. He realized the cause a moment later when he inhaled and smelt the cloying scent of Blood. 

He stopped short. 

His stomach cramped and the pain was almost sharp enough to block out the pain from the injection. Audio seemed to be coming through a filter as the others’ voices turned to static. He watched them haul the body up and into a tarp. 

Purple said something to him before they left, and then… it was just Cyan in a bloody room.

Compared to the others, this was a relatively clean kill. There was still a giant puddle of blood that had pooled from the body, but it wasn’t dripping off the ceiling or the walls. 

He inhaled, and the scent of blood once more hit him. He glanced at the hallway and then at the blood. It would take the others a bit to get to the airlock, dump the body, and then return. His arm pulsed where Purple had injected him. 

He removed his helmet, and the clicks of the clasps seemed to echo in his head. His mouth felt both too big and too small at the same time. He blinked and was suddenly on his knees before the puddle of blood.

It felt like he was watching himself with little to no control as he reached out and ran his fingers through the puddle. His mind seemed to be stuck on the way the streaks of gray from his fingers was rapidly filled in with red. 

Yellow was already dead. It wasn’t like he would be hurting anyone to just have a _little_ taste. It smelled so good. 

His stomach twisted as he licked the blood off his finger. Everything _hurt_ and _burned_ , but it was dramatically less so the moment the blood touched his tongue. He hummed around his fingers, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor for all of a moment before his actions hit him like Orange hitting the distributor.

What the Stars was he doing?! 

He wanted to be sick, but he didn’t _feel_ sick. If anything, he felt _better_. The burn from the serum, the ache of his body, the way the world had been twisting? All of it was somehow _lesser_. And all it had taken was one finger lick of blood. 

What was wrong with him?

…stupid question. He knew what was wrong with him. 

But it wasn’t like Yellow would care. They were already dead. And Cyan? Cyan was alive, and he _needed_ this. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand had already slid back through the blood and was already at his mouth.

There had been this gaping emptiness within him and now that it was slowly being filled, he was suddenly aware of it. Aware of how large and deep it was. Aware of how _hungry_ he had been. And this? This was what he _needed_. 

So why did he hesitate with his fingers barely touching his lips?

This screamed both bad and great idea, but the part of him screaming that it was a great idea was louder. 

_“You’ll need to learn how to control those urges. You control it, not the other way around.”_ Red had said. 

But then again, Purple had said _“…it cannot help but to act on those baser natures.”_

He wiped the blood off on his suit and hastily put his helmet back on. He wouldn’t be controlled by the parasite. He _wouldn’t_. One lick of blood had been enough. It would have to be. 

But he would keep this from Purple… just in case. He didn’t need them thinking Cyan a lost cause. Because he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t.

The way he continued to eye the puddle as he cleaned up, even after the other’s arrived, said otherwise.

Despite not getting a full injection the day before, Cyan slept like a baby. No nightmares, no dreams, no waking up in the middle of the night feeling like he was either on fire or being minced. 

Just simple, blissful sleep. 

He couldn’t help but to wonder what it meant. 

It was the perfect time to reflect on such thoughts. With Yellow’s death, the following day had been filled with mournful silence. Despite the relative silence that lingered all day, Cyan felt exhausted as he slipped into the medbay for his fifth injection.

“How did you feel about the body?” Purple asked, as they readied the final syringe. Cyan shrugged.

“It was a body.” He hadn’t been around it long enough to have any thoughts about it. The blood, on the other hand? Just thinking about it made Cyan’s mouth start to salivate. He hated it.

“No urge to infect it?”

“No!” Cyan wrinkled his nose. “Ew, no.” He shuddered from disgust. “Parasite corpses are gross, Purple.” 

Purple chuckled. “That’s good to hear.” They cleaned up the injection site and then took a breath. “I know you’re tired of hearing this, but if there’s any reactions beyond the burning and the lethargy—”

“I’ll let you know.” Cyan assured his friend. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.” 

Purple’s glasses flashed as they nodded. “Of course.” And then they slipped the needle in and pressed down on the plunger.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by [pesky_poltergeist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pesky_poltergeist/)!

Cyan was not prepared.

All the previous times, the pain had been a manageable burn. Yes, it hurt, but it had been _manageable_. It hadn’t felt like he had touched a live wire – a mistake he made only once in his life – and injected it into his arm. 

The sound of screaming echoed in his ears, pulsing with the sensation of the liquid fire that had been poured into his arm. White spots danced in his vision, or perhaps behind his eyelids. He wasn’t aware of much else than the pain.

He would rather be _Hungry_ for the rest of his life than deal with this pain.

He didn’t know how long the pain lasted.

_“It wasn’t supposed to hurt him!”_

It might have been seconds; it might have been hours. 

“ ** _Shut up!_** _”_

One moment he was in the most excruciating pain ever, and the next it was slowly – so slowly – ebbing away. 

_“I would never hurt him! Please, please believe me!”_

His body was shivering and shaking. 

**“You better pray he wakes up.”**

His skin both felt itchy and too sensitive at the same time. His throat burned and his mouth was dry like he had shoved cotton in it. Lights danced in his eyes, forming colorful formations and shapes – although he was sure his eyes were closed.

_“I need to check on him, please!”_

He felt dazed, and his first thought was ‘what happened?’. 

**“Like Stars I’m letting you near him.”**

He blinked, and stared, uncomprehendingly at the scene in the medbay. Purple was up against the wall, their feet a good _foot_ off the floor. And holding him there? Tentacles. Just like the ones from his dream. Except these weren’t coming from Blue’s body but…

“Red?” Everything seemed to stop at the sound of Cyan’s cracked voice. “Red?” Cyan’s tried to call out, louder this time. His throat burned with the effort to talk. Both Red and Purple’s gaze snapped to him.

Relief was prevalent in both of their gazes, albeit for maybe different reasons. 

“Oh thank the Stars. I told you he was alright.” Purple breathed out in relief. “Call him off, Cyan.”

Red crossed the room faster than what should have been possible. His hand was cool against Cyan’s cheek. 

It felt… nice. Cyan leaned into it, his eyes slipping shut. He felt so very, very tired, but at the same time, so very, very wired. It was like every nerve ending was alight and buzzed with the aftershocks of whatever had happened. 

“You shouldn’t be this hot,” Red murmured. He carefully maneuvered Cyan so that he was leaning into Red’s body with one of Red’s arms wrapped protectively and securely around him. “How do you feel?” 

How did he feel? Like he just took a full charge of electricity from a live wire and somehow lived to tell the tale. Like he had been burned from the inside out and he was still melting. Confused as to why and how he felt like those things… and why Red was there.

He imagined, through fuzzy thoughts that were hard to catch and keep hold of, that he would probably be more freaked out about Red later. 

“Cyan?” Red’s hand was at his face again, this time to direct it so Cyan was looking at him. 

His eyes were the same color as his name, Cyan distantly noticed. That was… new. The tentacles were new too. But it was the same Red. His touch was gentle, and his voice was even gentler. He produced a water bottle out of nowhere and helped Cyan take some sips when Cyan made grabby hands. 

“He _is_ alright, isn’t he?” Purple asked from the wall.

Red made a low guttural noise. It was caught between a growl and snarl, and it echoed through Cyan’s ears and made his heart flutter. But he wasn’t afraid. The opposite, actually.

Wrapped up in Red like he was, he felt the safest since before discovering Lime was an Impostor. He felt like nothing and no one could hurt him. Red wouldn’t let them. He was too protective, sometimes over protective – sorry Green – but he wouldn’t allow Cyan to be hurt.

“You almost _killed_ him,” Red snapped at Purple. 

He wanted to just curl up into Red and close his eyes. Maybe take a little nap. A tiny voice in his head that sounded a little like a mixture of Purple and Blue hissed that taking a nap after trauma was a bad idea. 

That thought was further compounded by the sound of Purple letting out a noise that was the cross of a pained gasp and shout. 

The noise cleared some of the fog settling in Cyan’s brain, forced him to look up – follow the black thick tentacles that were somehow coming from under and in Red’s suit – to where Purple dangled on the wall.

Purple was pinned there by the tentacles. One that branched off and held him by the neck while another looked like it was pinning him _through_ his shoulder. The tentacles spasmed, and Purple let out another pained noise. 

And all at once, Cyan realized that Red was going to kill them. Purple had – inadvertently – hurt Cyan, and now Red was going to kill him for it. Just like Green. Even in the same room as Green. 

Cyan couldn’t allow that. But what could Cyan do? The act of moving his arms – even to drink the water from earlier – had been such a ginormous task and Cyan didn’t even know how to begin to fight Red.

“Cyan,” Purple grunted as the tentacle in their shoulder seemed to _twist_. “Call. Him. Off.” The words were hissed through gritted teeth. Blood dripped to the floor, where a small puddle had already formed. 

The words didn’t make sense. Call him off? 

“Red.” It was easier to speak now that he had some water. Purple let out a relieved noise at the sound of Cyan’s voice. Or maybe it was at the way the tentacle in their shoulder stopped moving. Realization very slowly set in. 

Call him off. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? 

“Let them go.” For the longest moment, nothing happened. Purple continued to breathe through pain-clenched teeth. Red’s tentacle remained immobile in their shoulder. Cyan remained wrapped up in Red. 

Red’s gaze flickered over to Cyan. His eyebrows furrowed. “They almost killed you.”

And Red wasn’t wrong there. Cyan felt like he almost died. But that didn’t mean he wanted Purple to be killed. 

“Let them go,” Cyan repeated. He felt like he could hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest, louder and louder. Would Red actually listen to him? Would he let Purple go?

Red frowned, and Cyan thought that this was it. Purple was going to be killed regardless of what Cyan wanted. 

The tentacle in Purple’s shoulder came out with a squelch of blood, sending drops raining to the floor. Purple grunted, first at that, and then secondly at being unceremoniously _dropped_ to the floor. Red’s tentacles retreated, but didn’t vanish, hovering threateningly in the air between them and Purple. 

Purple was alive. 

Cyan almost couldn’t believe it. Red had listened to him; had left Purple alive. He didn’t agree with Cyan’s request – that much was clear by the continued existence of the tentacles – but he hadn’t really fought Cyan over it. 

Purple’s body shuddered on the floor, and then they slowly and carefully sat up. Cyan watched them slide across the floor to the desk and start trying to treat themselves. He noticed that they never turned their back on Red, and frankly, Cyan didn’t blame them.

They didn’t have the benefit of Red’s protection. All they knew was the feel of Red’s bite.

“Thank you,” Cyan whispered. He relaxed into Red, and felt his eyelids start to slip down.

“Keep him awake.” Purple’s voice. “I need to make sure—”

“You need to stay away from him,” Red growled. Cyan could hear the vibrations in Red’s chest, feel them through his entire body. The arm wrapped around him tightened just the tiniest bit, but when Cyan made a discomforted noise, it loosened back up.

Red really was listening to him. 

So much for Purple’s claim that Impostor Parasites always killed other Impostor Parasites. Because Cyan was about 95% certain that Red was another Impostor Parasite. And once Cyan had the energy to care about that, he would. But right now… Red was cool and comfortable and protective and _safe_. 

“You Purples are all the same, messing with things that you don’t understand.” 

Purple made an upset noise. Cyan’s eyes were closed, but he could just imagine Purple running a hand through their disheveled hair and scowling. “I was trying to cure him.”

“There’s _nothing to cure_.” Cyan shuddered at tone and volume of Red’s snarl, and Red ran a hand soothingly up and down Cyan’s body. “It was too late to ‘cure’ him the moment the scanner ceased working on him. To ‘cure’ him now, would _kill_ him.”

“No, allowing that parasite to continue will kill him.” 

Red laughed, and Cyan felt him shake his head. “You really don’t understand, do you? _This_ is Cyan now; parasite included. He’s stronger than you give him credit for.” 

The silence that followed was full of tension and was only broken by the occasional hiss of pain from Purple and the sound of their instruments as they patched themselves up. 

Red shifted, and a hand was pressed Cyan’s face. “You’re still too hot.” Red murmured. 

“That’s because you let him sleep instead of allowing me to look him over.”

“He’s not asleep.” Red snapped. “Could you open your eyes for me, Cyan?” 

Cyan didn’t want to. He just _knew_ that the lights of the medbay would be too bright. And if he opened his eyes, he would have to accept that the events that just happened were _real_ and not a new nightmare. 

But he needed to allow them to check him over. He blinked rapidly as the lights burned his eyes, hoping that the action would make it somehow more bearable for him. The lights in the medbay abruptly cut off into ‘night’ mode, and Cyan realized that he had been _hissing_. 

“There you go,” Red cooed, he brushed some of Cyan’s hair back and frowned. It wasn’t overly pronounced, just the smallest twitch of his lips downwards, but Cyan caught it. His eyes weren’t red anymore, and the familiarity of his dark eyes made Cyan’s stomach twist pleasantly.

“He wasn’t asleep,” Purple commented quietly. 

The first thing Cyan noticed was that the tentacles that had been hoovering protectively were gone. He looked around the room for them before he looked over, his gaze raking up Purple, who froze like they were staring down a predator. 

Then his gaze fell to the floor, where the shattered syringe of the serum lay in a puddle of fluorescent light blue. Finally, his gaze shifted over to the puddle of blood.

A pang of _need_ and _want_ and _hunger_ almost strong enough cripple him shot through his body. He whined as he closed his eyes, but now that he had seen it and actually registered its existence, he couldn’t help but to smell the blood.

Pressing himself back into Red did not help. 

“’Course not,” Red snorted. “Toss me one of the blood bags.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’ll help him heal from _what you did to him_ faster. He’s hungry, even if he won’t admit it, and the only options here are one of those blood bags _or you_. So, what’s it going to be?”

There was the sound of Purple stumbling and objects moving. “Would be easier with lights…” Purple grumbled, and then Red moved to catch something. 

“Here.” Red maneuvered Cyan so he was sitting up. He heard the sound of something being poured, and then there was a bottle at his lips. Cyan tried to tell himself it was just more water, but the scent told him otherwise. 

And then the flavor hit him, and he no longer cared that it wasn’t water. For the first few sips he needed Red’s assistance, but after those, he was fine to drink on his own. 

The blood was cold, but it felt amazing sliding down his throat. Like he was applying a balm to a burn. Slowly, the aches seemed to dull. But the exhaustion? That stayed.

“I didn’t realize… _your kind_ could survive off blood packs.”

“We can’t,” Red replied. It was the least hostile he had sounded towards Purple yet. “It’s just a nice supplement and pick-me-up. Good in a pinch.”

“And he’s in a pinch.” Purple’s voice sounded tight.

“No thanks to you.” 

Cyan finished off the bottle, and licked his lips. Purple made a noise of distress, while Red just took the bottle and screwed the cap on before tossing it at Purple. Purple flinched, but caught it. 

They were… scared. Cyan realized dimly. “They’re scared of me.” Purple looked over and squinted. 

“No.” Red laughed lowly. “They’re scared of _me_.”

“He thinks I’m scared of him?” Purple asked, which was strange because Cyan just said as much. Red nodded. 

“Let me take another look at you.” Red’s hand was on his cheek and chin, directing his face, and this time, Red smiled at whatever he saw. “That’s better. You feel cooler.” Cyan blinked. Now that it was mentioned, Red’s hand wasn’t nearly as cool as it had been. 

“His eyes—”

The look Red shot Purple could have cut glass. Purple cut themselves off. “Are fine.” Red finished. “That will sort itself out.” Was there something wrong with Cyan’s eyes? His hand reached up to touch, and Red caught him before he could actually touch his face. “You’re okay.” He promised. “And if the _good doctor_ approves, some sleep wouldn’t hurt either.”

“…he’s been awake long enough.” Purple admitted reluctantly. “I’ll stay here and clean up the medbay. I… I won’t tell anyone. Anything, I promise. Not because I’m scared of you but because I care about Cyan and… it’s clear you know more.”

“You don’t say?” Red drawled. He rolled his eyes before looking down at Cyan. “Did you want to get some sleep?”

Sleep. Oh, the only thing nicer would be some food that actually filled the void in his stomach instead of just simply tiding it over. He nodded, and leaned into Red. “Carry me?” 

“What did he say?” Purple took a couple steps closer, and Red let out a long, low growl. Purple immediately took a few steps back and raised their hands in a non-aggressive gesture. The growl tapered off, and there was tension in the following silence. 

“He wants me to carry him,” Red finally explained. One moment Cyan had been on the bed, tucked against Red, and then he blinked. And in the next moment, Red was standing, holding Cyan bridal style. “You can rest now. I have you,” Red whispered to him. 

Cyan nodded and laid his head against Red’s chest. The steady beat of his heart echoed in Cyan’s ears as he drifted off.


	13. Chapter 13

The world was too harsh before he even opened his eyes.

The first time he woke, it was to a hushed but tense conversation in his proximity. It sounded like it was between Purple, Red, and Black, but he couldn’t be sure. 

“—bad reaction to—”

“—stay—him company—watch—”

“—thing—to him—airlock—”

The words swam and swirled in Cyan’s brain, combining with the pain radiating from his arm until he found himself falling into darkness and waking up sometime later. 

“I’m worried he hasn’t woken up yet.” He heard Purple whisper. 

“Anyone would need time to recover from almost dying.” Red’s returning whisper dripped hostilities. A hand brushed some of Cyan’s hair out of his face. 

There was the sound of rustling fabric and then Purple let out a quiet ‘ah-ha’ of triumph. “I brought this! Would it help?”

Red was quiet for so long, Cyan had already started to drift back off – sleep was preferably to the pain – when he finally responded. “It’ll do.” 

Cyan was moved, and he hissed as his arm reminded him – painfully – that it did not want to be touched. Yet despite Cyan’s hissed protests, he was sat up with an arm wrapped around him to keep him sitting up. 

“I know, I know,” Red whispered into the crown of his head. “This will help, and then you can sleep again.” 

An open bag was pressed against his lips, and the scent hit him before the taste did. With every swallow, the pain in his arm dulled until it was finally just a throbbing ache. The bag – now finished – was pulled away, and his head fell limply against Red’s shoulder. 

He let out a low whine as he cracked his eyes open. Purple was as far as they could be, holding the empty, but still bloody, bag. They were looking at something behind Cyan, and even with a dulled mind, he could put together that Purple was watching Red.

Red’s chin bumped the crown of Cyan’s head gently before what he assumed was Red’s check was pressed there instead. 

“I’ve got you.” Red’s voice was a liquid promise that surrounded Cyan. It came from above. It came from the arms wrapped around him, and from the chest at Cyan’s back. He could feel the vibrations of it through his body. “Get some more rest. There’s only so long Purple and I can keep Black away.”

There were unspoken words there. An argument, perhaps, between Purple and Red? 

Cyan was too tired to figure it out. He turned his head to the side and nuzzled into the space under Red’s jaw where his neck met his shoulder and fell into darkness.

The next time he woke was by far the most embarrassing.

His first through upon waking was that the serum had given him the craziest dream yet. Red being an Impostor Parasite and coming to rescue Cyan like some sort of hero. Having _tentacles_ that he had used to pin Purple to a wall. Red _listening to Cyan_ despite clearly disagreeing.

 _“I’d do anything for you.”_ Including kill. Including allowing someone to live against Red’s judgement.

The surreal situation following where Red coddled him while Purple patched themselves up. 

It had all been one crazy, wild dream.

And then Cyan noticed the weight over his waist, and the feeling of someone’s breath against his skin, and the sound of a heartbeat that wasn’t his own. He laid, frozen and still in the darkness of the room as the reality that none of it had been a dream sunk into him.

His first thought was to flail. To throw Red off and away – because who else could be sleeping with Cyan to make Cyan feel so secure? – and freak out. Logic kicked in before he could. If he did that, Red would wake in a panic.

Freaking an Impostor awake seemed like the beginning of a horrible, terrible, no good idea. 

Besides, if there was anything last night (?) had proven, it was that _Red would never hurt Cyan_. As a matter of fact, Cyan seemed to hold the power in the relationship – and wasn’t that new? – because _Red listened to Cyan_. 

Red promised that he would do anything for Cyan, and well, so far he hadn’t broken his word. 

Red mumbled nonsense, and the arm wrapped around Cyan tightened, pulling Cyan closer. Cyan made a face and pushed against him. “Red,” he whined. The hold on Cyan loosened enough to allow Cyan to squirm. 

“Red,” he whined louder. “Let me go.” The words all seemed to slur together until it sounded something more akin to ‘lemmego’. After a few moments more of squirming, the hold was loose enough for Cyan to try to shimmy out of it. 

“Success!” He quietly cheered to himself as he managed to escape the honest-to-goodness human-sized squig that was Red. He scooted over the edge of the bed and was about to slip off when something slid around his wrist.

He looked down, expecting to see Red’s hand, but there was just darkness. And then he noticed the thin tendril across his wrist like a delicate bracelet. His breath was caught in his chest. Very carefully and gently, he reached out with his other hand and touched it.

It was more solid than Cyan expected, feeling like it was made almost entirely of coiled muscle. He could understand how something like this could spear through a person with ease. The darkness rippled and the grip on his wrist loosened some. Not enough for Cyan to escape. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Red. 

He didn’t look awake or even aware of what was going on. His face was pinched, like he tasted or dreamed something he didn’t like. Experimentally, Cyan ran his finger over the tentacle, applying a bit more pressure than before.

Under his touch, the tentacle rippled and undulated. He marveled at the feel of it. Warm and soft, not at all like the slimy slickness he expected. 

The furrow in Red’s eyebrows slowly eased away with every stroke. Red’s breathing seemed to deepen. The grip on his wrist slowly, but surely loosened until Cyan was able to successfully pull his wrist away. Weakly, the tentacle wrapped around his fingers.

It wasn’t difficult to pull his hand away. 

Well. _That was an experience_. Cyan was going to go away now to a place where he could freak out in peace. 

He beelined it for the door, hit the switch to open it and almost immediately ran into Orange. Her hand was raised as if to knock and she took a step back to steady herself from Cyan practically barreling into her. She blinked at him. He blinked at her. 

“Cyan?” She asked. She took another step back and looked at the number above the door sensor. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards and by the time she had dragged her gaze back over to Cyan, she was grinning. “Looks like you’re sleeping better…” The grin widened, “…if you’re back with Red.”

The sound that escaped Cyan was in no way, shape, or form, coherent. It sounded like the kind of noise one expected from a rodent or a small, adorable creature. Orange’s grin widened. 

Red took him to his room. Red took _him_ to his room. _Red_ took him to _his_ room.

Nope. No matter how many times Cyan thought it, no matter where he put the emphasis, it still sounded _bad_. Not like, _bad_ bad. But like, not what Cyan wanted, bad. 

Why the Stars had _Red_ taken _Cyan_ to _his_ room?!

“Trying to match Red’s suit?” Orange asked. Her eyes were bright and there was amusement dancing in them. And Cyan was _oh so very happy_ that he could provide such entertainment for her.

“I’ve got to go.” Cyan sidled past her and then shot down the hallway to the bathroom. It was thankfully, blissfully, empty. Good. He did his business, washed his hands, changed into the extra suit that was always kept in the bathroom in case of emergencies and then splashed water onto his face until he was 100% certain that this was not all some weird fever dream.

It wasn’t.

Then he stared at his soaking refection. He looked just like himself. The same light grey eyes and light brown hair. The same haircut. The same nose and lips and ears. The only weird thing in the reflection was how wet he was and the _lovely_ lichtenberg figures that wrapped around his upper arm in thick black marks. 

Somehow, he didn’t think those were going to fade as easily as the first lichenberg scars he’d gotten.

As a matter of fact, these hurt to touch. Even the suit caused a low, dull but persistent ache. 

The events of last night didn’t seem vague or unclear in his mind. He could recall them with uncanny clarity, but he also felt distinctly unattached to the events. Like he had been a spectator rather than a participant. Even when he thought of when he… drank human blood.

Stars.

He didn’t even feel sick thinking about it. If anything, his stomach growled as if to ask for more. There was no underlaying guilt or bad feelings about what he had done. It had felt as natural as drinking water or breathing.

It was what just like what Red said. Cyan was what he was, parasite and all. There wasn’t some clearly defined line where one ended and the other began. It was _all_ Cyan.

So what did that mean for Cyan now? 

Well, first he needed to check on Purple to make sure Red hadn’t killed them when Cyan wasn’t paying attention. He dried off and headed for the bathroom door.

“Cyan?” Orange’s voice floated through the door. Cyan stopped short, his cheeks heating up as he recalled her catching him leaving Red’s room. Stars, even _that thought sounded dirty._ “Red’s gonna walk you and me to the Cafeteria.” 

“Red doesn’t eat breakfast.” 

“He does today,” Orange sung back. “Don’t you, sour puss? Oh, don’t make that face at me. If you went to bed at decent normal times, you wouldn’t be tired. Don’t you—don’t you dare, Red. Red. Red!” It was her scream that had Cyan finally opening the door in a bit of a panic.

It wasn’t that he thought Red would hurt Orange, because they were Academy friends, but… The thought died before it could even form as he stared at the scene.

Red, looking perhaps too smug, stepped away from Orange as she tried – and failed – to unclasp her backwards helmet and pull it off. Cyan wasn’t one to laugh at another’s misfortune but he couldn’t help but to snicker as she spun around and walked smack into a wall with enough force to bounce.

At the sound of his laughter, Red’s gaze cut to Cyan so sharply Cyan worried that he’d gotten whiplash. The smugness dissolved into sheepishness as Orange continued to struggle while shouting “I am going to bleach all your suits!”

Cyan couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he stepped forward and reached out to stop her stumbling around. His arm ached, and it protested at him lifting it enough to help her unclasp and pull off the helmet.

She gasped once it was off, greedily sucking in lungfuls of air before spinning around and glaring at Red. “At least _one_ of you has manners.” She snapped as she accepted the helmet back from Cyan. Her look softened as she looked at him. “Thank you.”

Red half shrugged, and even that was halfheartedly. 

“It’s no problem.” Cyan smiled at her. 

He didn’t know why he had been worried in the first place. Orange _wasn’t_ like Purple. Red _liked_ Orange. He would never seriously hurt her. 

He felt Red’s gaze on him as they walked to the cafeteria, but he resolutely ignored it. He froze once he got the food distributor. All the options sounded… unappetizing. But his stomach was already twisting and turning, demanding _something_. 

Meat sounded great. 

Something he could sink his teeth into and _tear_ and… Cyan shook his head and took a half step back. Maybe it was best if he just waited until Lunch when there would be something that would hopefully better fit his new-found tastes.

Before he could take another step back, Red pressed a protein shake into his hand. “It helps.” Red’s voice was a soft whisper in the cafeteria. Cyan glanced at Orange who was nearest, but she didn’t even seem to notice the interaction as she picked out a cereal. Red led Cyan over to a table, where they took a seat.

“Good in a pinch?” Cyan echoed the words Red had said last night about the blood packet. 

Red’s lips twitched. “You remember.” The look he was giving Cyan was all warm and soft, and made Cyan’s stomach twist, but in that pleasant kind of way. He looked away and busied himself by taking a sip of the shake.

It was disgusting in a way that made Cyan want to spit it out, **immediately**. But Red said it would help and after last night? Cyan was inclined to listen to him. 

Because Red was like him. Infected by a parasite. Except, Red was clearly and obviously a lot further in his infection than Cyan. Cyan couldn’t form tentacles and honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone! 

…and he had a feeling that so long as Red had anything to say about it, Cyan wouldn’t need to.

“Why was I in your room?”

“But you don’t remember that.” Red rolled his eyes, but it was playful. “You wouldn’t let go of me.” 

Okay… Cyan could believe that. The memories of last night were detached, but he _knew_ that he had felt secure and safe with Red. After the reaction that he had to the serum Purple had given him – _“You almost killed him.”_ – it made sense that Cyan would cling to that feeling. Especially in his sleep.

Cyan’s face felt hot and flushed. He could feel the heat slowly rising, climbing even up to his ears. “So you took me to _your_ room?!” He squeaked. 

Red shrugged. “My bed is better and if I was going to get in trouble, I might as well as have a comfortable night.” He paused. “Or two. You slept through all of yesterday.”

At first, Cyan thought that Red _might_ have been joking, but he realized after only a few moments that he was not. 

Not just ONE night, but TWO nights Cyan had slept with Red in Red’s bed in Red’s room. 

“You-You’re a jerk.” Cyan shoved the protein shake back at him, crossed his arms, and pouted as he looked away. Red’s responding quiet chuckles absolutely _did not_ make his heart skip a beat. ~~It did.~~

“What’s going on?” Orange asked, her cereal finally chosen. She took a seat across from them. “Are you two… back together?” There was hope in her tone. When Cyan glanced at her, he could see it shining through in her eyes and expression. 

He looked at Red, who raised an eyebrow. “Cyan?” He asked. He tried to play it cool, but he was nervous. It was obvious in the way he spun the drink around in his hand. In the way he licked his lips before saying Cyan’s name. 

He wanted Cyan to say yes, but he wasn’t going to say it for him.

Cyan’s mouth felt dry. For a completely non-parasite related reason for once too! In most of Cyan’s previous relationships, he had never been the one in charge of the relationship. It was his partner in control, and Cyan always had little to no say in any manner.

He could count the number of relationships where his opinion mattered on one hand. 

But here was Red. Red who positively adored Cyan, who would _kill_ for Cyan, who would _spare lives_ for Cyan, letting Cyan choose if they were together or not. Red genuinely liked him. Had avoided Cyan out of respect for Cyan when they were broken up. Had come to Cyan’s defense when Cyan was hurt. 

And he was allowing Cyan the choice. 

Cyan could say ‘no’. He could watch Red’s expression crumble, watch those doors and walls reappear and lock Cyan out. How many times could Cyan do that before Red gave up on him? Before Red stopped caring? 

Would that be better? Purple was hurt because of Red ~~– because of Cyan just like Green, except Purple was alive and Green was dead~~ – and who knew who else Red would – could – hurt. But Red had done so for _Cyan_. 

Not to mention there was Cyan’s own feelings on the matter. His brain loved to point out all that Red had done, but… he really wanted to say yes. 

But… Pink was dead. Green was dead. ~~Thanks Red~~. And now Yellow and Brown were dead. Was now really the time to be re-establishing a relationship on this ship, especially when no one was certain who the Impostors were? 

After all, while they had voted Brown out, there was no way that anyone actually believed her to have been the Impostor. 

Which meant Pink and Yellow’s killer(s) were still on the ship. 

He knew it wasn’t him, and he knew it wasn’t Red (or at least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t.). Which meant everyone else was fair game – including, Cyan realized with dismay, Purple. And if he said yes to Red, not only would he be following his heart, but Red could _help_ Cyan in a way Purple clearly couldn’t.

Red knew what Cyan was going through. Red knew what helped and what didn’t. Red had defended him against Purple the results of Purple’s best intentions.

Like, Cyan still cared for them, but his trust in them was… considerably less sturdy than it had been. Meanwhile, his trust in Red was restored and stronger than before. The only thing that could really shake it now was if Purple was killed by Red.

And Purple’s continued existence was quickly confirmed as Purple entered the cafeteria from the medbay hallway. They looked tired and distressed, like they hadn’t slept at all, and their arm was in a sling. But they were _alive_.

Red really had spared them because Cyan had asked. Warmth flooded Cyan. Maybe it was too soon after the deaths for Cyan to get back with Red, but… his relationship with Red was more than just him and Red.

It was entertainment for Orange. A promise that things were going to be better. And besides… it wasn’t like Cyan didn’t want to be in a relationship with Red. The opposite, really. 

He smiled at Red, and his heart positively skipped at the way Red’s eyes lit up in hope. “Yeah.” Cyan nodded. “I think we are.”

“About fucking time!” Orange practically burst. “It has been torture watching you two just sort of dance around each other,” she huffed. “What happened?”

“We had a heart to heart before Purple accidently overdosed him.” Red not-too-subtly scooted close enough to Cyan to tangle his fingers with Cyan’s. Cyan snorted. That was one way to put the fiasco that was last night. “He stayed with me while he slept off the sleep drugs.”

“So that’s how you ended up in Red’s room.” Orange grinned. “Well… I’m sure I can pair up with someone other than Cyan if you two wanted some more _alone_ time.” 

Cyan did, but not for the reason Orange was insinuating. He wanted to talk to Purple and Red both about what happened. Preferably one-on-one and then all together. 

“I really don’t think now is the time for that,” Black interjected into the conversation. “I’ll be on Cameras. I want Red patrolling around.” He crossed his arms as he stared down at them. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the distributor hasn’t been repaired and calibrated yet. If the lights go out—”

“Brown was the Impostor,” Orange snapped. Oh. Maybe Orange really did believe Brown to be the Impostor. “Quit being so paranoid.”

“Being paranoid is how I’ve kept us alive,” Black reminded her. 

“I’ll work go work on the distributor.” Cyan volunteered, mostly to escape the situation. 

He didn’t feel _guilty_ over Brown, but… the whole fiasco had been, in a way, his fault. If he hadn’t been scanned, then the scanner wouldn’t have errored, and then Red wouldn’t have killed Green, and Brown wouldn’t have been miserable. And then she wouldn’t have been Airlocked.

“Good.” Black nodded. “The Impostor Situation set us back in our Tasks. We were supposed to make it to Aunov in a week, but at this rate, I give it two or more.”

“Two or more?” Orange whined. “Oh, c’mon Black. Don’t be such a downer.”

“I’m not.” Black replied. “We have no Admin. The only Researcher is Purple. Somehow we have all of Security still, and both Engineers.” Orange opened her mouth, “And before you say it,” Black cut her off. “I know you know Admin tasks. That doesn’t make this situation any more ideal.”

“It just means we’ll have to double up on Tasks.” Cyan realized. “I can probably take over for the O2 and Reactor maintenance. I’ve been trained on both.”

“I have Reactor, Navigation, and _some_ Admin training,” Red informed. 

“Great!” Cyan beamed. This was perfect. Reactor work was generally considered a two-person Task due to the security restrictions in case of meltdowns. Which would give Cyan _plenty_ of time to talk with Red. “Red and I can double up. Reactor work is a two-person job!”

Black didn’t look as happy about the idea as Cyan felt. “White has O2 and Reactor Maintenance training as well. I was actually thinking of pairing you with her.”

“Oh.” That was… less ideal. 

“ _’Oh’_.” White echoed, coming from behind Black. “You don’t need to sound so put out, Cyan. I know I’m not Red, but we can have fun together too, you know.”

“Your definition of ‘fun’ is taking candy from a mini-crewmate,” Orange muttered under her breath. “Let me guess,” she said normally, “I’m paired up with you, Black?”

Which meant Red and Purple were going to be paired. Of course, Black would pair the two he was most suspicious about together. Maybe he hoped they would just take each other out. 

“Naturally. Which leaves Red to our resident Researcher.” Red’s enthusiasm at Black’s comment was overwhelming in the aspect that it was non-existent. He scowled down at the table. Cyan patted his knee.

“Purple’s not so bad,” Cyan said. “Just don’t be too harsh on them. They get tunnel vision with their research.” 

Red snorted. “I’ll go check on the doctor then.” He pushed away from the table and stomped off towards medbay. 

White watched him go with her hand on her hip. “Who spat in his protein shake?” She asked before looking down at Cyan. “So… ready for a fun, task-filled day? I thought I heard something about a distributor earlier. What’s that about?”

Cyan was not looking forward to the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about missing an update! I'll update again soon, I promise. I had some family/personal stuff come up (people visiting, people dying, court cases, Dentist Appointments, Car Inspections, Car being almost towed all within this past week/weekend), and I'm still exhausted from dealing with it.


	14. Chapter 14

“C’mon short stack,” White called from the doorway leading to their dormitory hallway. “I’ve gotta escort you to your room. Black’s orders.”

Cyan groaned, his face planted on the table in front of his salad. 

It had been a couple of days since he had first been paired up with White, and he was no closer to getting any answers or even any alone time with Red or Purple beyond a couple of snatched moments.

Moments too short for any real conversation. They were only long enough for the brush of hands or a brief chaste kiss if they were helmetless – for Red only. And while those moments were sweet and nice, it was a real conversation that Cyan _needed_ to have with both Red and Purple. Primarily with Red.

The most time they got to spend together was in the cafeteria, since Black mandated everyone taking their meals at the same time.

It was honestly the best decision Black had made. If anything, Cyan felt cheated that he had been denied this experience until this point, because meals with Red were great. 

Red almost always sat near or next to Cyan, and this allowed the perfect opportunities to hook his foot around one of Red’s ankles. In return, Red would either scoot close enough for them to hold hands under the table or rest his hand on Cyan’s thigh or knee. 

Red didn’t typically make comments, but if Orange was sitting with them instead of with Black, then they’d banter and commentate the other crewmate’s action like it was either a sports show or a drama. 

But this last meal, neither Red nor Purple had attended. Something about some task in medbay that couldn’t be interrupted. The conversation had been quiet enough that even with his hearing, he wasn’t able to make it out entirely. Cyan could tell Red hadn’t been happy when he informed Black before disappearing back into the medbay.

With no Red to sit by Cyan, of course he had been invited to sit with White, Black, and Orange. And oh, wasn’t White so nice to have ordered a Salad for Cyan?

And it was nice of her! It really was. 

So, he wasn’t going to verbally complain but… a salad just didn’t sound good. He had long since figured out that the parasite – and by extension, him – was carnivorous, although he could get away with some plants before it made him feel ill. 

Red seemed to have mastered the art of moving enough food around on his plate to make it look like he ate more than just meat and maybe one or two sporkfuls of veggies. But Red seemed to have mastered a lot of things, like the sleight of hand when giving Cyan a blood packet after dinners. 

Heading to the dormitory was usually a herd effort, but Red had found out – or perhaps already knew – that if he stopped by Cyan’s door to kiss him, the others would usually look away in some semblance of privacy. Just long enough for a proper kiss and a blood packet to be slipped in Cyan’s suit pocket. 

Then Black would clear his throat – earning a punch in the arm from Orange – and Red would, regretfully, pull away. Purple, Cyan noticed, would not even react to this. They would just continue on without the others to their room and lock themselves away without so much as a ‘goodnight’. 

Black had griped that Purple had been distant ever since they hurt their shoulder getting Red the night they ‘accidently overdosed’ Cyan with sleeping medicine. 

The distance was probably to hide how bad their injury was, since Red had speared them through and to the wall. It was already a small miracle that there was no damage to the wall – or if there was, it was easy to fix or hide.

But despite that, Cyan was worried about Purple. 

“Short stack?” White called out from the doorway again, and once more, Cyan groaned in response. He didn’t want to get up. He felt too tired to get up. And since Red hadn’t made a re-appearance, he doubted he was going to be getting a blood packet or a goodnight kiss.

And honestly, those things were some of his motivation to keep going through the day. 

Red was right that the protein shakes helped, but the blood – as much as he hated to admit it – was like an instant pick-me-up. It had gotten to the point that the blood was one of the things he was most excited about. 

“I’ve got it,” Red countered. Cyan shot up and twisted around so fast that he got a bit of a headrush. “Purple’s sticking to the medbay. I don’t think they plan to sleep in their actual room tonight.”

White snorted. “Don’t let Black hear that. He’ll haul the Researcher off to their room himself.” She turned to continue through the doorway and then paused, looking back over her shoulder at Cyan and Red. “Don’t keep him up too late, stud. He’s practically dead on his feet after lunch.”

“White,” Cyan complained. He buried his face into his hands. The sound of her responding laughter echoed in his ears. 

“I don’t call the shots.” He heard Red reply, and oh. Cyan wasn’t aware that he could feel more embarrassed than he did right this moment. 

“Red!” Cyan squealed. 

Both Red and White laughed, although White’s laughter eventually disappeared as she walked away. Red’s hand brushed against Cyan’s shoulder blades. “You look like you’ve spent a day with White.” 

“I’m not talking to you.” Cyan refused to remove his face from his hands.

“I only told the truth.” Cyan could practically hear the smile and laughter in Red’s voice. “’sides, I thought you would want to talk.” He paused, and then very carefully and loudly said, “now that we’re alone.”

Cyan looked up from his hands in confusion, and Red gave him no warning before leaning down and brushing his lips against Cyan’s. What was going on? Not that he would complain about kisses – because Orange was right, and Red’s tongue was always amazing – but what?

He made a confused noise that was swallowed up by Red, and when Red’s tongue traced his lower lip, Cyan parted them to allow him in. Warmth curled in Cyan’s gut as Red’s tongue licked inside his mouth. He sucked on it, and then let out an unbidden moan when he realized that Red’s mouth tasted like _blood._

“Shouldn’t you two be getting to your rooms?”

Ah. Black was interrupting them. _Again_. 

At the sound of Black’s voice, Cyan pushed himself away from Red. He squirmed in his seat, resolutely looking down and away from either Black or Red. It was one thing to get a smooch goodnight in front of Cyan’s door and another to be caught kissing in the cafeteria.

“Depends.” Red’s voice had no right to sound the way that it did from just one kiss: all husky and rough. “You going to pitch a fit if we share?” 

Share!? 

A startled squeak escaped Cyan as his mind raced to process that word. Sure, he had spent the night with Red before – after the… incident… with Purple – but the way Red said the word implied something much different.

He squirmed in his seat again, but this time because of something a little more than just embarrassment. The more he repeated the word in his head, the more the implication set in, the more he _wanted_. 

Not just for the kisses or anything like that. **_For Talking!!!_** ~~Although kisses and the like would be nice too.~~

“Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?”

Black unknowingly echoed one of Cyan’s own private thoughts that he sometimes had whenever he stared at the ceiling in his bed – unwilling to sleep because of the nightmares – and thought about his relationship with Red and everything that was going on. 

It was one thing to have that thought himself, and another entirely to hear someone else say it out loud. 

Because it was, honestly, none of Black’s business. And even if it was – which it wasn’t! – relationships _did_ tend to move fast while on missions like these. Especially because if Cyan wanted to be with Red on another mission, they would have to file their status with Mira HQ and… and…

Oh. 

He wanted to be with Red on another mission. 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Red snapped back at Black. “Cyan calls the shots with us. If he was uncomfortable, he’d—”

“Be too afraid of his murderer boyfriend to break it off again.”

Now wasn’t the time for epiphanies about anything. Black’s words sealed that in, and also filled Cyan with anger.

“Enough.” Cyan hadn’t meant to snap like that but now that he had… Cyan balled his hands into his fists under the table. “Our relationship is our business, Black. You’re not my ex and _even if you were_ , it’s none of your business if I want to kiss my boyfriend or spend the night with him. And I don’t see how this is any of your business either, but Red’s a complete gentleman. If I say ‘no’, he backs off. So, **_lay off_**.”

Cyan could feel both Red and Black staring at him like their gazes had physical weight, but he refused to crumble under it. Black had no right to judge their relationship. He had no right to insinuate – more than insinuate, really – that Cyan was only with Red out of fear. 

Black didn’t react except to continue to stare at Cyan with wide eyes. So, clearly Cyan needed to further drive his point home. 

He fisted Red’s suit and tugged him down into another kiss. This time Cyan was the one to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into Red’s when he let out a startled gasp. The taste of blood was more intense than before, and once more Cyan moaned. He kept a fist in Red’s suit but moved his other hand up to the back of Red’s hair to tangle in the hair before the ponytail. 

Cyan’s control of the kiss was short lived as Red wrested control back and broke it off. “Not that I’m complaining, but he’s gone now.” The taste of blood and Red lingered on his lips, and Cyan hummed as he licked them. Red’s eyes dilated as he tracked Cyan’s tongue. 

“So, what was that about?” Red asked. “Once again, not complaining. That was…” Red cleared his throat. “I mean… you’re usually not so _assertive_.”

And just like that the steam that had been driving Cyan forward vanished, and he felt his cheeks pink with the realization of what he’d said and done. Cyan adverted his gaze. “You started it.” 

Red dropped his forehead to Cyan’s. “How do you do this to me?” He asked in a quiet whisper. Cyan’s gaze slid back to Red, and this close, all he could see was Red’s dark eyes. 

“Do what?” Cyan asked.

Red pulled away, and unzipped his suit just a little – and Cyan absolutely did not squeak – and then took one of Cyan’s hands and guided it under the suit to press against his chest. Through the flimsy undershirt, he could feel Red’s heart beating like a small bird fluttering its wings.

“Make my heart beat this fast.” Red continued to whisper. “It’s hard to raise our heartbeats, but you manage it so _easily_.” 

Red leaned down and kissed Cyan again, but this time there was none of the heat from before. It was slow and soft and sweet. Under Cyan’s hand, he could feel Red’s heartbeat, fluttering like a small bird trapped in his chest. 

Warmth flooded him. Not an embarrassed heat, but a tender one that made Cyan’s heart swell. He wished he could take a snapshot of the moment and keep it forever. The feel of Red’s heartbeat under his hand, the sweet, careful way that Red was holding him. The warm kiss and the forehead press when it was inevitably broken.

But for as much as Cyan wished he could stay in the moment, they needed to talk. And Red had given them the perfect excuse. 

“We should talk.” 

Red sighed and pulled away. “We should,” he agreed. “It’s a good thing we’re sharing a room tonight.” Cyan couldn’t help but to pink at the words. Red chuckled. “Has anyone told you that you’re adorable when you go all pink?”

Cyan was pretty sure he was beyond pink now, and the flush probably only worsened when in one smooth movement, Red scooped Cyan up. Cyan squeaked and gave halfhearted protests as Red carried him down the hall.

“This is never going to get old,” Red teased when Cyan finally gave up. He crossed his arms and pouted. “Stars, you’re even cute when you pout.”

Red hit the sensor to the door of his room and then unceremoniously dropped Cyan onto the bed. Cyan bounced on it and stared up at Red with a look akin to betrayal. “You dropped me.”

“Onto my bed.”

“But you _dropped me_.” 

Red quirked an eyebrow. “Did you want me to make it up to you… or did you want to talk?”

His initial gut reaction was to have Red make it up to him. He was in Red’s room, alone. On Red’s bed. They were back to dating. They had just been kissing, and heavily implied to Black that they were going to be getting up to stuff.

He _wanted_. 

Oh, did he want. He wanted Red’s tongue in his mouth. He wanted Red’s hands on his skin, on his waist, on his hips, in his hair, _everywhere._ His mind traitorously replayed Red biting his ear in the cafeteria and imagined Red biting him elsewhere.

He imagined _biting_ Red. Sinking his teeth into him, claiming and marking him as _Cyan’s._

“Oh.” 

Red’s eyes were already so dark, but with how big his pupils were, they were even darker. There was just the thinnest little sliver of _red_ in his irises.Cyan should probably be concerned about that. The only other time he had seen that eye color had been when he hurt Purple. He didn’t know what it meant. 

~~He knew it excited him. What more did he need to know?~~

Red took a step back. “We’re going to have to talk about _that.”_ He swallowed thickly, and Cyan’s gaze followed his adam’s apple. “You can’t look and smell like _that_ and expect me to have a serious conversation.”

“Like what?” Cyan asked. 

“Stars,” Red swore. “You don’t even know.” He closed his eyes, and with very visible frustration, turned away from Cyan. “I… need a moment if you want to talk.”

A protest was on the tip of Cyan’s tongue, begging to be said. A tease was right there next in line. Followed by a _suggestion_ , and a whole slew of other thoughts. And finally, at the very end of the line of things for Cyan to say, was his common sense. 

It waved at him as if to ask, ‘hey, remember me?’ His mouth snapped shut with an audible noise. Red was right. They did need to talk. Preferably before they got into anything else, pleasurable or not. 

“Is this a parasite thing?” Cyan asked. He let himself fall completely back onto the bed and stared resolutely up at the ceiling. Red must have looked at him because he made a _noise_ that Cyan wanted to swallow.

Instead he swallowed down that impulse. He wasn’t some horny teenager in the Academy anymore. He was an _adult_ – ~~which meant he could really participate in _adult_ activities now~~ – and that meant he needed to be sensible, mature, and responsible.

And that meant _talking_. With words ~~, not just their bodies~~.

“No.” Red cleared his throat. “No, not that I’ve experienced.” 

Great. That meant that they were just really _that_ into each other. He supposed it was good to know that his want and need for Red was completely his own. Even if it didn’t feel like it with how deeply he _wanted_. 

Or maybe this was just a new experience for Red as just as it was for Cyan. 

“Purple asked the same,” Red continued after a moment.

“Oh?” Cyan sat back up and bounced on the bed – it really was better than his own. It didn’t have any bounce to it. “How’d that go?”

“I didn’t hurt him if that’s what you’re asking.” It wasn’t, but it was good to know regardless. Red’s use of the word ‘hurt’ was even better because it meant that the blood Cyan had tasted earlier probably wasn’t Purple’s. “He’s been bribing me with blood packets, not that it’s needed. Speaking of this is for you.” Red pulled out a blood pack and offered it to Cyan. 

He normally used the same dull knife he used for spicing wires to cut the bags open, but as he pulled it out, Red stopped him. He took the knife and put it on the nightstand. “There’s easier ways.” He slipped one of his gloves off, and Cyan watched as Red’s fingers extended and sharpened into what looked like claws. 

“I can do that?” Cyan whispered.

This. This was the biggest thing he wanted to talk to Red about: the Change. What could Cyan do? How could he do it? What was expected of him? Did he have… tentacles too?

“You can,” Red confirmed. “When the parasite replaces the cells, it’s not an exact replica. With the exception of a few organs, like our brains and hearts, almost everything is replaced with this same shapeshifting, multi-use cell type. Some Researchers have called it ‘biomass’.”

“So, I’m made up of biomass now?”

“Mostly. It’s what allows us to slip into small spaces – like the vents – and shapeshift.” Red waved his clawed hand as if to demonstrate. That must be how Red could form the tentacles too. It was all a manipulation of the shapeshifting biomass. “Vents are usually easier to learn because it’ll want you to find small, dark places. This,” he waved his clawed hand again, “is a bit more difficult.”

He held out his gloved, non-clawed hand for the blood packet, and upon receiving it, easily sliced a corner for Cyan to drink from.

Red was right: that looked considerably easier than using his knife. 

The scent flooded the room, and Cyan leaned forward, reaching out of the bag. He took it with trembling hands, but somehow didn’t spill a drop as he lifted it up to his mouth. The blood was thick and cool as it coated his tongue. 

He almost whined when it was done. It had soothed the hunger, but it was still _there_. 

He was so tired of being hungry. Red said it ‘took the edge off’, and there was no denying that claim. But for how long? How long could protein shakes and blood packs help before they didn’t? 

“How often do we need… to eat?”

“That’s your first actual question?” Red’s hand was back to normal as he took the empty blood packet and tossed it into the trash. His other glove was missing now too. Not that Cyan could talk. He had taken his off in the Cafeteria, and now that the thought about it, they were probably still there. 

“I don’t want to kill anyone.” Cyan folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. “And I know that the parasite in me might make me change—”

“No.” Red kneeled in front of Cyan and rested his hand on Cyan’s. Cyan looked up at him, startled. “You’ll have instinctual desires to, yes. But that’s all it is. _You’re_ the one in control.”

“But Purple said—”

“Purple was wrong.” Red sighed. “It’s something I’ve been having to teach them. They’re right, it is easier for some people to just… let go. To just do whatever their instincts tell them to. **But** not everyone is like that. _You’re_ not like that. If you say you don’t want to kill, then fine. That’s _your_ choice.”

“And you?” Cyan bit his lip as the question slipped out. He had a thousand other questions buzzing around his head, but the one questioning Red was the one that escaped. Red’s hesitation in answering was terrifyingly telling. 

“If it’s necessary.” Green’s death had not been necessary to Cyan. But, if he tried to look at it from Red’s perspective. Green had damning evidence against Cyan. If she had reported it, like he claimed she was, then Cyan would have been airlocked. Cyan would have _died_. 

Red could have left it alone; could have allowed that. 

As a matter of fact, it would have done _more_ for Red in the long run to have her go ahead and airlock Cyan. Everyone would have thought _he_ killed Pink. Suspicions would have lessened, and Red would have had an easier time hiding what he was.

This was something that Red had acknowledged himself. But instead, he chose to endanger himself by killing Green to _protect_ Cyan.

Cyan wasn’t trying to be ungrateful, but what was necessary about protecting Cyan?

“What about Green?”

Red’s expression turned sour, like he had eaten or tasted something he didn’t like. “She was going to turn you in.”

“But what was necessary about protecting me?” Cyan asked. “I’m… I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I just don’t understand.”

Red was quiet. He stood only to take a seat on the bed next to Cyan. “This was going to be a quiet mission for me. No killing unless strictly necessary, no risks, nothing. Just survive until we made planet-side and then move onto another Crew.” 

“And then you saw me?” Cyan joked. He chuckled lightly, but Red didn’t return the laugh. 

“But then I saw you.” He confirmed, and woah. Cyan had never been told something so cheesy before in his life. “You were at the loading dock with your helmet off, and I could tell you were upset and sad but… you were smiling and laughing. Like a mini sun, you were brightening up everyone else who heard and saw you.”

Cyan remembered that moment. He hadn’t even been assigned crew yet and he had gone out with some of his previous crewmates to wish them luck on their new crews. He had been still feeling under the weather at the time. 

Purple hadn’t wanted him to go out, but Cyan had argued that it might have been his last chance to ever see those crewmates again.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but… then there you were on _my_ _mission_. You interested me. Everyone else touched by misery and Impostors turn paranoid and harsh, but you? You were still so soft, so warm, bright enough to keep the darkness of space away.” 

Cyan flushed. “I’m not that special.”

“Agree to disagree.” Red squeezed his hand. “I didn’t expect you to show up in the cafeteria that night. Or to keep showing up. But you did, and with every visit, the want to keep you safe just… grew. I didn’t know what you were then, I just knew that you were a drop of sunshine and I’d be damned if I let that light go out.”

“So when you found out I was infected…” Cyan trailed off. 

“Oh, it was completely a surprise.” Red let out a chuckle. “I’m pretty good at sniffing out those who are changing. But you…. You caught me off guard. I couldn’t actually believe it until Green showed me the error log.”

Red had mentioned before that Green was what had confirmed Red’s suspicions, hadn’t he? During the disaster that had been their breakup. So far everything seemed to be matching up to what Cyan remembered of the conversation. 

But… there was one thing Red said that caught Cyan off guard. He furrowed hie eyebrows. “You mean you’ve encountered… others?”

Red snorted. “You say that like Impostors are rare around here. Survivor Crews, like ours, usually have at least one of us on them. Sometimes they’re like you, unaware and changing. And sometimes they’re like me.”

Like Red, as in _already changed._ Maybe it wasn’t _Red_ with the monster/Impostor Kink but _Cyan_ , since he was all about Red ~~and all the things that had made him so _other_ before Cyan knew what those things meant.~~

“And Human Impostors? Are those even real?”

“Oh, they’re real alright. But they’re a bit hit and miss. Some of them will give you a helping hand or they just stay out of our way. For the most part they don’t want to bother us anymore than we want to bother them. They do the killing; we get a free meal.”

Cyan shuddered at the easy nonchalance in the way Red referred to _crewmates_ as a _meal_.

Red said he only killed if it was necessary, and Cyan imagined that included for food. But what about Cyan? He wouldn’t – couldn’t – _kill_ someone. Even if it was to eat. _Especially_ if it was to eat. But then again, Red said that Cyan didn’t have to kill if he didn’t want to. 

But… if someone else did the killing, then Cyan wouldn’t have to. It sounded like if he wanted to live, he’d have to scavenge off other’s kills.

“But others?” Red shook his head. “Others will try to hunt us down. Sometimes they succeed, more often... they don’t.”

So that was what Red meant by ‘hit or miss’. Cyan nodded. “And then you’d kill to defend yourself.”

“Everyone has the right to defend themselves, Cyan. Even Impostors.” 

Cyan couldn’t fault that. “So, there’s others like me? Who’ve gone through the change?”

“I wouldn’t say they’re anything like you.” Red disagreed. “I _know_ what the Change is like; how confusing and painful it can be. I’ve seen others go through it, and out of everyone… you’re the only one who’s gone through it smiling, friendly, telling jokes.” He let go of Cyan’s hand to brush his hand against Cyan’s cheek and gently move a lock of hair back out of Cyan’s eyes. 

Cyan flushed again and would have turned away again to stare at his lap if it wasn’t for Red’s hand on his cheek. “You’re beautiful,” Red whispered. And oh. Oh. Cyan could just feel the heat in his face getting worse. He wanted to look away, to pretend that the sincerity in Red’s eyes wasn’t there. To pretend Red’s words were just a sweet nothing.

Because to accept that it was _real_ was almost too much for Cyan’s poor little heart. Red couldn’t think that _he_ was beautiful. Not really. 

But there was no deceit in Red’s voice, body language, or gaze. There was no lie in the tender way his thumb brushed over Cyan’s cheek. The tenderness in the cafeteria hadn’t felt or seemed like a lie either.

“Not just physically, but inside too. You don’t even want to kill when others would just give in to that desire. I’ve seen people like you take the change, but never with the grace you have.”

Cyan felt speechless, his mind a whirl of emotions and thoughts. His eyes were burning with the sheer force of everything he was feeling, and he sniffled, even as he smiled. “I wouldn’t call this experience graceful.”

“There you go again smiling.” Red shook his head. “Trust me, Cyan. I’ve witnessed a lot of Changes in my missions. Even tried to help some of them through it. And I can say, as basically a certified expert, that you’re one of a kind.”

It was easier to focus on the little nuggets of information that Red dropped rather than the compliments and praise. His mind caught onto the line about witnessing a lot of Changes and ran with it.

“How long have you been an Impostor?”

Red’s entire body tensed. The hand on Cyan’s cheek fell as Red turned away. Walls and doors, and how could Red be so _open_ with Cyan one moment and so closed up and locked up the next? Cyan couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend how one could live like that.

“A long time.” Red sounded tired. “Not long after I separated from Orange.” 

He and Orange went to the Academy together. They were crewmates for their first couple of missions and crews. Horror and understanding itched under Cyan’s skin as he came to the realization that Red had likely been like this for _years_. 

And however his Change had gone, it was pretty clear from the way he sounded, from the way he closed himself off, that it had been _bad_. 

“You don’t have to talk about it.” The words practically tripped over themselves in their haste to escape from Cyan’s mouth. “I shouldn’t pry, I’m so—”

Red cut him off with a finger to Cyan’s lips. “You weren’t prying, and you don’t need to be sorry. The past is the past, the only thing to do is keep moving forward.”

Keep moving forward. Cyan was reminded of the realization he’d had in the cafeteria about his desire to stay with Red. He thought about officially registering their relationship with Mira. Unless strictly necessary, Mira would try to pair Red and Cyan up for any future crews.

They could be together. 

But what else was there than that? What if Red, like so many before him, got sick of Cyan? Or, what if Red didn’t want to register their relationship? Red had been an Impostor for _years_. If either of them were caught, the other would naturally be under suspicion for not reporting the other.

Cyan’s smile faded and he sighed. “What is there to move forward to?”

Red leaned back on the bed and hummed. “Plenty. Mira’s been trying to contain us for years and failing miserably.”

Us. Because Cyan was like Red – an Impostor – even if he didn’t want to kill. Cyan was one of them. It was still a little crazy to wrap his head around. And it wasn’t like he could be cured. It was too late for him; Purple’s attempt had proven that well enough. 

Subconsciously, he reached up to rub at the shoulder that Purple had been injecting. He caught himself a moment later and twisted his hands in his lap to keep from repeating the motion. There was no need to remind Red of what had happened. 

“You’d be surprised at how many of us have little communities at the Outposts and Headquarters scattered cross the Company,” Red continued. “There’s one at our destination, actually. A good friend of mine heads it up.”

He wasn’t sure why the idea of there being _communities_ of Impostors was surprising to him given all he’d learned, but it was. He imagined living on one of the outposts – not Polus, anything but Polus – with Red, surrounded by other Impostors. 

Red said there weren’t many like Cyan, but how many of them were like Red? Killing only out of necessity? How many were like what Purple had described, killing without rhyme or reason?

“Or as long as you stay on top of your _Hunger_ and keep a strong will, you should be able to keep doing tasks and missions with no trouble, if you wanted.”

“Like you?” Red’s lips twitched upwards at Cyan’s question.

“Yeah.” He looked over at Cyan with a soft warm look that had Cyan’s heart skipping a beat. “Preferably _with me_.”

Oh.

Cyan’s mouth dropped open, although part of his mind questioned why he was so surprised. The attraction he felt with Red was rather extreme, and it was more than clear that said attraction went both ways. Red felt just as strongly about Cyan.

Strong enough to kill.

His stomach churned at the reminder, but he couldn’t tell if it was from horror, guilt, _hunger,_ or some morbid mixture of the three. 

It made sense to stick with Red. Red would never expect him to kill and would share his kills. In return, he could try to get better at lying and cover Red’s tracks for him. 

There was just one teeny tiny problem with this idea: Cyan himself. He _wanted this_. He wanted this future so very much, but at the same time, Cyan had been ‘burned’ – to quote a crewmate – too many times by others who promised to stick with Cyan only to get tired of him and move on.

Everyone loved how sweet and bubbly and naïve cute little Cyan was up until the charm wore off and they got tired of it. Yeah, they were still nice to Cyan – it was, according to at least five exes, illegal to be mean to Cyan – but the other person inevitably moved on.

How long would it take for Red? Cyan couldn’t kill. Red would have to kill for the both of them, and surely the stress of that would take its toll over time. 

Sure, Cyan could just ride it out with Red until that time came. He could just shut this little insecurity of his up in a lockbox in his mind and ignore it like he had with others. But the thought of Red leaving him, of getting tired of him?

It hurt.

And then what would he do without Red? He would have been dependent on Red and who knew if he would find another Impostor who wouldn’t mind doing all the killing. 

He didn’t think he could take all that. So despite how much he wanted to stick with Red, it was probably best if he went on his way and tried to figure out how to survive on his own.

Well, his mother always said it was best to be honest. “I’d love to,” Cyan admitted, “but you’ll get sick of me.”

“ _I’ll_ get sick of _you?”_ Red quirked an eyebrow, and when Cyan mutely nodded, laughed hard enough to throw his head back. “That’s not gonna happen,” he assured Cyan once he finished. He sat up to wrap his arms around Cyan. “If anything, _you’ll_ be the one tired of _me_.” He tucked his chin into Cyan’s shoulder, and his breath ghosted over Cyan’s skin.

It suddenly felt very hard to breath. Or think. Or do anything except notice the soft tickle of Red’s hair against his face, the feel of his arms around Cyan’s body. How sturdy he was against Cyan’s back. 

The bugs in his stomach erupted into that same kind of _Hunger_ from earlier. “Red?”

Red hummed in response, and Cyan swore he could feel the vibrations through his body. “Fair warning. I’ve been called possessive once or twice.” The arms around him tightened. “And I don’t like people or things I consider _mine_ to be bothered.” Red’s arms were around him, but something was definitely sliding across Cyan’s lap to wrap around his wrists.

The thought of what it probably was should have scared him. Should have _terrified_ him. But Cyan didn’t think his heart was beating as fast as it was out of fear. 

“If you stick with me, I’ll make sure to _take care of you,_ ” Red continued. His lips brushed against Cyan’s neck, and Cyan practically jolted from the touch. “ _I’d do anything for you._ ” He felt like his body was vibrating from the pure amount of _everything_. The scrape of teeth against his skin had Cyan all but trembling. 

“Red,” Cyan gasped. _Want_ pooled within him, heavy and dark. He leaned back against Red, and Red’s responding chuckle echoed in his ear. What might have been a tongue licked the shell of it. A whine tore itself out of Cyan’s throat. 

“Think I’ll be too much for you, Cyan?” Red whispered. Cyan’s hands were still held by their wrists, but something else slid over Cyan’s upper thigh slowly and languidly, taking its time to stroke up and down. 

Cyan’s mind screamed to slow down while Cyan’s body just seemed to want to go full steam ahead. Warmth coiled in his gut. Between Red’s lips and teeth and the grip on his thigh, embarrassing noises were dropping from Cyan’s mouth like water from a leaky faucet.

He both wanted for Red to keep going and stop at the same time. Everything felt so good – _too good_ – like he was going to explode if Red kept this up. Cyan’s mind was a whirlwind of feelings and sensations and thoughts.

They had just been talking. How had it turned to this so fast? 

“Red,” he managed to gasp out. But it seemed that was the limit of his capabilities. It was all he could say, over and over and over again as Red sucked on his neck, nibbling every so often with those too sharp teeth. 

“Let me take care of you, Cyan,” Red purred. Oh Stars, if this was Red trying to convince him, Cyan didn’t think he needed it. 

The warmth in his lower gut was building and building. He hadn’t even been touched _there_ , but that was probably for the best. He was pretty sure he actually would explode if he was.

Alarms were blaring in his head, practically screaming that it was ‘too much’, and yet he couldn’t find the emergency brake. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. His head fell back onto Red’s shoulder, giving him more access to Cyan. The thing wrapped around his thigh twitched upwards at the Cyan’s motion.

“Yes,” he heard himself gasp instead of Red’s name. He heard Red inhale sharply, and he just knew _that_ was what Red had been waiting for. Cyan called the shots, after all. 

“Stars, Cyan,” Red purred. “You smell _so good_.” He nipped, and Cyan’s body jumped of its own accord, a strangled noise tearing out of his mouth. “ _Taste so good.”_

He felt something slide between his suit and his body. His hips jerked and the repeating of “Red” escaping from Cyan started to slur and blur together. The warmth in his gut was coiled so tightly, he felt like he was just standing on the edge of _something_ , and one faint breeze was all he would need to just fall over.

He twisted his hands, feeling the need to grab onto _something_ , lest he be completely blown away by how strong everything felt. His whole body felt like a live wire, and he keened with every brush of Red against him. 

Something wrapped around _him_. It squeezed with just the _perfect_ amount of pressure as it coiled, bordering right between pain and pleasure. The coil of warmth in his gut exploded. Cyan wasn’t sure if he shouted Red’s name or just unintelligible nonsense as his body spasmed in Red’s grasp. When he blinked, white-blue lightning danced beneath his eyelids. 

“Fuck,” Red hissed. 

The pressure around his wrists and thigh was gone. His suit was partially undone – when had that happened? – but the thing that had been in it was also gone. His body heaved, like he had just run laps around the ship two or three times in a row. 

He felt boneless as he slumped onto Red and the mattress. The thought of moving sounded way too exhausting. Just thinking about it made him ache. Red’s arms were still around him, and he felt himself be picked up and maneuvered into a more comfortable position on the bed. 

Red loomed over him, and he leaned down to share a sloppy kiss. Red’s mouth tasted like more than just blood now. There was a distinct salty and sweet taste to it, and it took Cyan an embarrassingly long time to realize what exactly he was tasting.

“Is that _me?_ ” Red’s mouth hadn’t been anywhere near him down there, so that thing _~~tentacle~~_ that had been wrapped around him at the end had been a _mouth_ or _something_. Cyan wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Red’s responding grin was all the answer Cyan needed. 

It was exhausting to drag his arm up to shove his hand against Red’s face, but worth it. “You’re _disgusting,_ ” he hissed. Red grabbed it, and held it to his mouth, pressing kisses into it. 

“And you’re _delicious_.” Cyan’s entire body felt warm at Red’s response. That was it. Red was going to officially be the end of Cyan. He kept pressing kisses to Cyan’s hand; first his palm, and then Cyan’s wrist, and then up his arm until the shoulder.

There was no rush in these kisses. As a matter of fact, the only _need_ that Cyan got from these was Red’s desire to let Cyan know that he was _cherished_. 

“You should get some sleep,” Red whispered. “The Change can be exhausting on its own, and smiles or not, you haven’t exactly had an easy time of it.”

“You’ll be here when I wake?”

“The only thing that could make me leave is you,” Red promised. He was still holding Cyan’s hand, and he squeezed it. Somehow, Cyan didn’t think he was talking about the morning. A different kind of warmth blossomed inside of him. “Get some sleep, love. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Love.

The first pet name that Red have given Cyan, and it was _Love_. He turned his face into Red to hide his pleased smile. Red chuckled and pressed a kiss into his cheek, telling Cyan he’d seen it anyways. 

He didn’t think he’d fall asleep easily or quickly, but he closed his eyes just to humor Red. And opened his eyes – after what felt like a few minutes later – to find himself draped over a sleeping Red and his watch buzzing at him that it was time to wake up.


	15. Chapter 15

Cyan knew that he should get up – and probably get Red up as well – but instead, he lay his head back down on Red’s chest and got comfortable again. It was too hard to convince himself to do anything more. 

He knew Red used to have a different sleep schedule before Black started mandating the partner system, and it seemed he was still on that schedule as Cyan did not hear or feel Red’s watch going off.

He watched Red’s sleeping face for just a moment, just long enough to notice the furrowed brows and the twist of his lips.

The furrowed eyebrows had been a thing the last time he woke before Red too, but he had assumed that it was from Cyan _leaving_. 

Under his head, he could hear Red’s heart was racing, which meant either a) Red was having a really good dream ~~about Cyan~~ or b) he was having a nightmare. Cyan had sinking suspicion which was right. 

Hadn’t touching Red helped him last time? 

He sat up as best he could with Red’s arm wrapped around him and reached out to carefully brush his hand against Red’s face, tracing the profile with just his fingertips. 

“Red,” he whispered. Red hadn’t reacted last time to Cyan’s voice, but this time his eyes shot open. The arm around him tightened enough for him to fall against Red with an ‘oomph,’ as Red sat up. 

Cyan twisted his head so he wasn’t being smothered against Red’s chest – as nice of a death as that’d be – and realized Red’s tentacles were out, surrounding them both protectively. Beneath him, Red was panting. His heartbeat was going crazy.

Guilt bubbled inside Cyan’s gut. He hadn’t meant to scare Red; he only wanted to ease his nightmare or wake him up. 

After a moment that seemed to last forever, Red’s breathing and heartbeat evened back out. Slowly the tentacles retreated until there were none left. 

“I’m sorry,” Cyan whispered. 

Red swallowed thickly. “Not your fault.” Red’s voice was hoarse again, but this time it wasn’t from him trying to be husky and sexy, but from stress and tension. He swallowed thickly, cleared his throat, and tried again. “It’s not your fault, love.”

Like before, the pet name made Cyan feel all warm. The swarm of winged insects took flight in his heart and gut. But the glow of it didn’t last long. 

Red bowed his head and pressed his face to the crown of Cyan’s. Despite his heartbeat and breathing being mostly even, his body was shaking, practically trembling, as he held Cyan. It was a bit awkward of a position to wrap his arms around Red, but Cyan hugged him. 

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“No.” Red’s response didn’t even wait for Cyan to fully finish his question before it escaped in a rush of air against Cyan’s hair. “Yes.” A pause. “I don’t know.”

Cyan waited a heartbeat before nodding. The arm around him was already holding him tightly to Red, but he nuzzled closer still. “I’m here.”

After a long, long moment, Red took a deep shuttering breath. “What happened with you and Purple,” he paused, and Cyan waited for him to continue, “brought up some bad memories.”

“Oh.” He wondered if it had something to do with Red’s Change. He knew it had been difficult, but Cyan didn’t want to pry. Red would tell him on his own time, even if that meant Cyan might never know at all. In the meantime, he could be there for Red when he was needed.

After a while, Red’s grip on him loosened. The shaking was almost gone entirely, and it seemed that whatever panic had gripped Red when he woke had finally lost its grasp. 

“Morning.” With the newly loosened hold, Cyan was able to slide up and press a kiss against Red’s cheek. Red’s eyes were back to being their normal dark color, although when Cyan pulled away from the kiss, they glimmered with something like mischief.

That was the only warning Cyan got before Red rolled over, taking an embarrassed, squeaking Cyan with him. He stopped once Cyan was pinned under him, and he grinned down at Cyan. The grin was still lacking some of Red’s usual flair, but he was clearly trying to move past his awakening, and who was Cyan to point it out?

He leaned down and captured Cyan’s lips in a kiss, sharp teeth nibbling until Cyan let him in with a gasp. He reached up and ran his hands through Red’s hair, which he just realized was free of its signature messy ponytail.

Air, what was air? Cyan didn’t need air to breath, all he needed was Red. Morning breath was a thing, a horrid thing, really, but how could he focus on that when Red’s tongue could probably tie his tongue up in a bow? 

Red broke off the kiss to rest his forehead against Cyan’s. “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” Well, if Red wanted to pretend the freak-out hadn’t happened, Cyan wasn’t going to judge him. He smiled, and shyly looked up at Red from under his lashes. “Black’s gonna be wondering where we are.” 

“Black can come drag me off you.” Red leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the side of Cyan’s neck. Cyan laughed and squirmed, playfully pushing Red away. 

“Quit it! We’ve got – Red! – tasks to do.” 

With one final push, Red rolled over, this time without Cyan. “You wound me.” Red sighed dramatically, draping an arm over his eyes. “Here I am, trying to lavish you with all the attention you deserve, and you _wound_ me.”

“I wound nothing!” Cyan laughed. “Besides, you promised me we’d talk more.” Cyan rolled onto his side to poke Red. 

“Did I say talking?” Red asked. “I meant ‘kissing’.”

“Nope.” Cyan poked him again. “No more kisses till we brush our teeth.”

“’Brush our teeth’.” Red rolled his eyes. “We’re made up of biomass, Cyan. We don’t technically _have_ teeth anymore.” He paused, and then as if it was an afterthought, added, “or bones”. 

“But we still have morning breath,” Cyan argued, because it was easier to just keep going along than to stop and acknowledge that _he didn’t have bones anymore._ ~~He felt like he still had bones. What did Red mean they didn’t have bones anymore?!~~

Red heaved a big, heavy sigh. “Fine.” He dragged the word out like it had personally offended him. “What did you want to talk about?”

The very first thing that popped up in Cyan’s mind was the whole ‘no bones’ thing. Red had mentioned the biomass thing last night when he showed off his claws. He said it replaced most of their cells and that was how they could get into vents and stuff, but like, what did that all _mean_?

“What do you mean we don’t have bones?” Cyan meant to bring up the biomass specifically, not just the bone thing.

“Exactly that.” Red yawned and stretched. “What you ‘think’ are bones, is just the biomass pretending until you tell it otherwise.”

“Tell it otherwise?”

“Like with my claws or tentacles.” As to redemonstrate, Red held up his hand. His fingers and nails seemed to be joined as one as they elongated into the sharp claws Cyan had been shown last night. “It takes a bit to get used to it, and not everyone’s good at it.” 

“What else can it do?”

“Anything you could imagine. I knew a Brown who opened a mouth up in their stomach and bit their meals in half.”

Cyan wrinkled his nose at the imagery that provided. He had heard rumors of finding half eaten bodies like that, but he had always thought of them as just that, rumors. Just kid stories told to scare the kids into behaving.

Apparently not.

“I never got the hang of that. These were always easier for me.” ‘These’ being the tentacles. One of them wrapped around Cyan’s wrist. It was a warm sort of pressure that remind Cyan of someone holding his hand. 

But the mouth in the stomach and the whole biomass thing kind of explained Red tasting like Cyan even though his mouth hadn’t been anywhere near _there_. They were, in a very real sense, shape shifters now, and they were all mostly made of up the same shapeshifting material.

It wouldn’t be hard for someone who knew what they were doing, like Red, to transfer the taste up to his mouth. Or maybe, he tasted with his entire body? 

“What are you thinking about to be blushing like that?”

Cyan blinked. “No-nothing!”

“Nothing doesn’t make you blush that prettily,” Red teased. The tentacle holding his wrist rubbed up and down Cyan’s inner forearm, and the motion made Cyan’s flush worse. “Ah.” Red grinned knowingly. “If you’re curious, sex _is_ better with biomass.”

Okay, Cyan _hadn’t_ been wondering, but _now_ he was. He was pretty sure he could match Red’s suit with how red he was now. His mouth opened once, twice, three times for a rebuttal, but the only thing that escaped him each time was an embarrassing squeak.

“I’ll show you once we get to the planet. We’ll need privacy for the noises I want to wring out of you,” Red promised. “Unless you don’t want—”

“No!” Cyan sat up and twisted to face Red so fast his head was dizzy. He stared at Red, and it wasn’t until he noticed Red’s quirked eyebrow and smug smirk that he rubbed the back of his head and said, “I mean, um,” he cleared his throat, “No.” This the time ‘no’ was spoken much more calmly and normally. He cleared his throat again. “What is Aunov like?”

The tentacle around his arm squeezed gently, like a promise to return to the previous conversation at another time, before pulling away. 

“Crowded,” Red replied. “It’s less of an outpost and more of a colony.”

Cyan laughed at Red’s description. He could totally understand why Red would say ‘busy’ if it was more of a colony. Being colony-born meant he was familiar with them, but to those not born or used to one, colonies could seem ‘crowded’. 

Cyan’s parents were part of a minority of Mira employees where despite being partners, they _chose_ to live apart. His dad preferred to stay with his colony, while his mother traveled the stars – returning periodically for family time. 

He had lived on a Mira colony planet until he was old enough to join space missions (nomadic missions, officially, but no one used that term really) with his mother. 

Once he joined her on missions, he’d fallen in love with the traveling, just as she had, even if living in a colony or outpost had its perks. ~~Like a place to run away to if an Impostor attacked.~~ The first thing he had done upon graduating from the Academy had been to turn in his application for the nomadic positions.

Engineers were always needed while traveling the stars, and so his application had been snatched up, and well… here he was now.

“Your time at the Academy must have been rough,” Cyan commented. “Was it your first time on a colony planet, or did you have any time off-ship as a mini?” 

“Pegged me as ship-born?” Red asked. 

There was a tinge of doubt now in Cyan’s assumption. It wasn’t unheard of for other colony-born to think of colonies as ‘crowded’, but somehow, Cyan didn’t think it was the case here. He nibbled on his bottom lip. “Am I wrong?”

“No, you got me.” Red sat up and stretched. Faintly, Cyan could hear Red’s watch buzzing. “It was the ‘crowded’ thing, wasn’t it? Orange always said that’s what gave me away.”

“Not like there’s any other real differences other than that,” Cyan chirped. 

“Oh, there’s plenty of differences,” Red complained. “It took me over a year at the academy to adjust to real gravity. Weather? Count me out.” He wrinkled his nose. “Snow is the worst.”

Once upon a time, those would have been fighting words. Snow had been a rarity at Cyan’s home colony, and it had been one of the things he had been most excited for when he found out that he was being assigned to a mission on Polus. Sure, it wasn’t a mission where he got to travel the stars, but the promise of **snow** had all but made up for it.

And then his mission to Polus actually happened. 

“It’s not that great,” Cyan agreed, looking down at his lap. 

“Finally, someone with sense. Orange just called me a sourpuss and shoved a handful of it down my suit.” Red shuddered. The mini-story was just what Cyan needed to brighten back up. He snickered at the mental image of Red and Orange fighting in the snow. “We should get going if we want to wash up before breakfast is over.”

“Mmm, I thought we were going to wait for Black to come drag you off of me?” Red grinned and laughed, even as he propelled himself to pin Cyan back down. Expecting this, Cyan rolled to the side, and off the bed. He tsk’d at Red. “Not till after we brush our teeth,” he reminded. 

Red stretched out on the bed where Cyan had been. “You’re a tease,” he grumbled. “What are you looking forward to when we land?”

“The space,” Cyan replied. “It’s been a while since I’ve been assigned to a Skeld-Class frigate. I didn’t think Mira even used them anymore.”

“Just for Survivor Crews.” Red kept stretching until he reached the end of the bed, where upon, he slipped practically bonelessly off the edge and somehow ended up sitting against the edge of the bed. Cyan blinked, his mind replaying the scene as he tried to process _how_ Red had done that. It had been so _fluid_ and _smooth_.

“I’m looking forward to the food.” Red’s smirk said that he knew exactly what Cyan was trying to figure out. It also said that he wasn’t going to be any help. “That’s the best thing about Colonies and outposts – there’s localized food from the wildlife.” 

The talk of food was a welcome distraction to the headache forming, and Cyan grabbed onto it before he realized that he _shouldn’t_. His stomach let out a grumble and twisted just enough to hurt. Red’s smirk dropped into a concerned frown. He took Cyan’s hands and rubbed the backs of them with his thumbs. 

“Hey, hey,” he comforted in a soft voice. “Just a bit longer, love, and we’ll be landing and you can get something to eat.” 

Something ugly and foreign bubbled up within Cyan, pushing for him to snatch his hands away and snap at Red. It was easier when he was distracted because the moment he turned his attention to how _Hungry_ he was, it was like he had decided to feel fall into a deep dark maw that threatened to _eat him_. 

Blood packets and protein shakes could only last so long, and Red… Red had side-stepped his question about how often they had to eat. 

“How often do we need to eat?” Cyan asked again.

Red closed his eyes and sighed, seemingly with his entire body. “Technically, always.”

Always? Always!? So Cyan was _always_ going to feel like he was on the edge of cliff, staring down at that _Hungry_ maw, waiting for it to devour him? He realized Red was still talking. 

“I know it’s hard right now, but it gets better. After eating, it gets easier to manage. The Change is always the hardest. You’ve been doing so well, Cyan.” Red tugged him forward, and engulfed him in a hug. 

Pressed against Red’s chest with Red’s arms wrapped tightly around him, it was somehow easier to focus on himself. To tear himself away from that edge, even if by an inch, and _breathe_. He realized that he was shaking, Red was murmuring apologies into his hair, and someone was knocking on the door.

“Fucking lovebirds. Why couldn’t Black go bang on their door?” He heard White complain through the supposedly soundproof rooms. Her footsteps echoed through Cyan’s ears as she walked away, conflicting with the steady beat of Red’s heart. 

“Let’s go get you a protein shake,” Red said. He leaned back away from Cyan and cupped his face to stroke Cyan’s cheeks with the pad of his thumbs. “Or three.” He amended, prompting a weak chuckle and smile from Cyan. “There you go,” he smiled. “But are you sure I can’t kill Purple—”

“Red!” Cyan snorted as he stepped back and smacked Red’s chest. “No!”

“I mean, it’ll help.”

“He’s my friend!” Cyan protested. “And also, you’d be the first one airlocked!”

Red shrugged. “We don’t need to breath.”

… Cyan was adding _that_ to his list of things to unpack later. “You’re impossible. You need to worry about more than just _breathing_ if you get airlocked.” Cyan shook his head and turned to the door. “I’m cleaning up and then heading to breakfast.” 

“Fine.” Red held his hands up in surrender. “But if it comes down to you and Purple…” He purposefully trailed off. Cyan didn’t doubt that Red was being serious, but it was easier to pretend that he wasn’t. He snorted and shook his head fondly before exiting. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this update being so late!!!! Family Drama (I swear, they purposefully wait until Oct/Nov to start acting up) and also, I lost Internet for a bit. :/ 
> 
> BUT I'M BACK!!!!

Breakfast was an embarrassing affair. Orange whistled when he entered with Red, and Black couldn’t keep his eyes off Cyan’s neck where Cyan knew there to be several very obvious, impossible to hide hickeys.

Red had only grinned at him when he confronted him after washing up and commented, ‘but they complement your color so well’. 

He was never going to let Red kiss him again. ~~That was a bold-faced lie~~.

He would have hidden himself behind his helmet – where no one could see the hickeys or tease him for how flushed he was getting – if it wasn’t for the pesky fact that he needed it off in order to eat. 

“Trying Red’s diet?” Orange teased when Cyan sat down with only a protein shake. “Hate to say it, but you’ll have a hard time finding ‘Cyan’ on the menu.” 

Black choked on his orange juice. Which was fair because Cyan also choked on his protein shake. Red rubbed his back soothingly as Cyan turned to her and hissed out, “Shush!”

“I can’t help but notice that you’re not a matching pair.” White pointed to Red with her spork, pointing out the obvious lack of hickeys.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Red began as Cyan buried his face into his hands, “But not where you can see.” 

Orange whistled again, and Cyan wished that the floor would just open up and spit him out into space. He hadn’t even left anything on Red. He was just egging them on!!!

He knew why they were teasing: they all needed some form of entertainment and distraction, and what was better than a budding relationship still in the honeymoon stages. But still… did they have to?

Cyan let out an embarrassed whine that had at least Orange laughing. 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough of picking on Cyan.” Black grumbled. He finished off his orange juice and set it down on the table with a loud thump. The sound echoed through the cafeteria with a sense of finality. “Let’s get to tasks.” 

Cyan didn’t want to go do tasks. If he was honest with himself, he wanted a day to just laze about in bed with Red, talking about all sorts of things, ~~and maybe some kissing~~. That was a much better distraction from the _Hunger_ than tasks.

Even now, as he sipped on his protein shake, he could feel it reaching up through him, like a wave threatening to overtake him. 

He tossed his protein shake away in the trash as the straw made the dying sounds of the drink being finished and smiled brightly at White. “Ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready, short stack,” she grumbled. Cyan’s smile dimmed, but only just for a second. If there was anything the past few days had taught him, it was that White was kind of rude and mean, but she didn’t really mean it. It was just how she came across.

At least, that was what he was telling himself.

He pulled out his tablet and checked what tasks he had to do. It looked like Orange had given him a variety down the right side of the ship. Fixing wires in Weapons, O2, and Shields. Then he also needed to clean the O2 filters and empty the chute. 

It made for a nice pretty little line down the side of the ship. Hopefully White’s followed the same path. “What tasks do you have?” 

White didn’t bother pulling out her tablet. “I got asteroids to kill and shields to prime.” 

Well, that put a damper on things. He couldn’t do the wires in Weapons while she was using it for asteroids. Maybe he could do the O2 tasks first – Wiring, cleaning the filters, and begin the chute – and then swing back up for Weapons once White was done. But then what about Shields? He had to do those before the Shields could be primed.

And hadn’t he already fixed the wires in some of these areas? It was almost as if someone was purposefully going through and messing them back up. 

Which, actually, now that he thought about it, made sense. He never thought Brown was the other Impostor – and it couldn’t be Green, Yellow, or Pink on account of being dead. Which meant it was…

White waved her hand in front of Cyan’s face. “Oh no, you don’t,” she snapped, both verbally and with her fingers. “You’re spacey enough after lunch as it is, no going all lovesick after breakfast too.” She shook her head. “It’s a wonder you get any tasks done at all.” 

Cyan looked down. It wasn’t like he was _that_ bad, was he? 

She took his tablet out of his hand and surveyed the tasks. “We’ll be here for another week if Black expects _you_ to do these tasks alone.” White clicked her tongue. “How about this, lets go over to Weapons, and you can teach me how to fix the wires. I can do Shields for you. All you gotta worry about is O2.” 

“But we’re not supposed to split up.” 

White rolled her eyes and mockingly repeated Cyan’s words. “Look, if we actually want to get to Aunov anytime soon, we’ll have to. The food supplies on this ship won’t last forever, even with the smaller crew. It’s not like I’ll be far from you if anyone tries anything.” 

She paused and gave Cyan a hard look. “Besides, _you_ voted off the Impostor, remember? Unless you don’t actually think it was Brown. In which case, that’s pretty suspicious of you…” She trailed off meaningfully. 

“No!” Cyan shook his head and purposefully turned away towards Weapons. “It was Brown,” he lied and hoped that he had turned and walked away enough for her not to catch that he was lying. “It’s just that Black—”

“Is a paranoid ninny,” White finished for him. “So, you gonna show me how to do wires or not?”

Cyan came to a stop and twisted to look at her. “Fine!” He threw up his hands in defeat. “I’ll show you how to fix the wires.” 

She was right, it would be faster if he taught her. It didn’t mean that he had to like how smug her grin was as she slipped on her helmet. Which reminded him… he put on his own helmet, sighing as the helmet automatically filtered the lights to make them a little more bearable.

Since becoming an Impostor and discovering Red was an Impostor as well, some of Red’s quirks were starting to make a lot more sense. 

Some part of him wished that they didn’t. That Red was just quirky and Cyan was still _normal_ , but… ever since the incident with Purple and Red, Cyan had come to realize that the days of being normal were behind him. For better or worse.

It always took a moment to access the ‘easy-access’ panels for some of the more problematic wiring, but since changing into an Impostor, Cyan had noticed that it took him a bit longer. It wasn’t that there was something _wrong_ with him preventing him from doing his tasks, but…

It was like there was some sort of disconnect in his head. He would hear or smell something and get distracted just long enough to be a hinderance. It was frustrating and annoying, not only to himself, but to others – like White – as well.

Maybe it was for the better that he was going to be teaching her how to do wires. 

“So that’s how you access those panels,” White said. The hair on the back of his neck bristled at how close she was standing next to him. She leaned over further into his space, placing her hand on the shoulder she was looking over. “I always thought a special tool was needed.”

Cyan inhaled shallowly through his mouth and tried – and failed – not to think about how easy it would be to just… just what? He couldn’t form tentacles or sharp claws like Red. And even if he could – he couldn’t – he wouldn’t _kill_ someone. 

He refused.

He exhaled shakily and tried to focus on what he was doing. “Uh, yeah, usually.” He sidestepped just enough that White’s hand fell off of his shoulder. “But they usually break pretty quickly and Mira’s always slow about replacing them, so… uh, most engineers pry it open like this.”

He demonstrated how to pry under the panel with just his hands and a utility knife. 

“Pretty dangerous,” White commented. “I can’t imagine it’s rare to cut yourself doing this.”

“Nah.” Cyan shook his head. “Well, maybe in the beginning a little, but the knife’s so dull it’d take a lot of force to do any damage to a crewmate. The thing to worry about here is cutting the wires with it. But if you only stick it in so much, that’s not a problem.”

His hands were sweaty enough that despite wearing gloves, he was almost afraid the knife or the panel would slip through his fingers. He finally managed to loosen the panel with a grunt, and dropped it at their feet. 

The sound clattered and echoed in his head, and he shut his eyes like that would stop the torrent of noise. It didn’t. Behind him, White whistled. “That’s a mess of wires.” 

He opened his eyes and was assaulted by the colors all mixed and mashed together into a messy catastrophe. Some of the wires were cut, but the majority of them almost looked like someone had opened the panel, pulled a whole bunch of them, and then shoved them back inside.

Maybe someone other than him and Orange had tried to fix the issue and then realized they couldn’t, and then tried to put the wires back? 

“This is going to be a nightmare to sort,” Cyan complained. Not just because it was, but also because he could already see the telltale fuzziness at the edges of each wire that meant his vision was going all wibbly and weird. 

He just had a protein shake, and he had been fine with Red. He just needed to chill. To distract himself from the low ache in his stomach. 

“We’ve got to sort that?”

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’. “Once it’s all untangled, we repair the wires that are snapped or cut, and then close the panel back up.” 

“That doesn’t seem too hard,” White said. “What about all the excess wire?”

“Once it’s straightened up, that’ll sort itself out.” Cyan took a step back away from the panel and White. And then another step for good measure. “Think you’re good here?”

“Wait. How do I repair the wires once they’re untangled?”

Cyan told himself that the snappy replies his brain kept supplying were results of his hunger, and reminded himself that although this task was basic – but tedious – to him, it was something new to White. 

He could be patient. Both with teaching White and his _Hunger_.

“You match the colors,” he replied, forcing a bright cheery tune, “and then strip the color insulation off of both ends to twist the actual wiring together. Technically, you’re supposed to insulate _that_ with tape, but we ran out of it already.”

White hummed. “Right then. I got this. Off to O2 with you.” She made a shoo-ing gesture without looking at him. Cyan rocked back on his heels and then back to his toes, hesitating. Black didn’t want them separating but… well, he already made the choice, and it wasn’t like White would be far from him.

It was probably safer that she kept her distance anyways. He waited until he was firmly out of her sight and in O2 before slumping against the wall. 

His stomach growled, painfully reminding him that the protein shake wasn’t enough. Maybe there would be more meat-based options at lunch and dinner today. That tended to take the edge off much more than protein shakes or blood packets.

White knocked on the door, startling Cyan badly enough that he jumped. “Oi, no daydreaming!” She complained. “Geez, you’re as bad as the Impostors, I swear.” She shook her head. “Because of them, by the time we’re retired, we’ll all know how to do each other’s tasks, I swear.” 

“Finished already?” Cyan asked. 

“Already? It’s almost lunch time.” White rested her hand on her hip. “Don’t tell me you’ve been too busy daydreaming to do your tasks.”

Almost… _Lunch_? It couldn’t be. He checked his watch, but White was right. He had maybe an hour until lunch. Where had the time gone? He literally just walked away from White in Weapons. 

“I…uh… no?”

Even through the helmet, he could tell that the look White gave him was very unimpressed. He ignored her and turned to the O2 filter to clean it out. His hands were shaking as he combed the debris off and sucked it up into the chute to be tossed later. A few moments later, a white glove reached out and started to help him.

Startled, yet again, he looked up to see White resolutely looking down at the filter. “Maybe you oughta have more than just a protein shake for lunch, yeah?” She commented. “You’ve been spacey lately.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Thank you, White.” 

She grunted and continued combing out the leaves. Their watches beeped, signaling lunch just as Cyan pulled the lever to send the trash down to storage.

He wished he could say that the rest of his day was better after lunch. But that would be a lie. He got lost in the colors of fixing the O2 wires until just before White came to collect him after finishing the tasks in Shields. She stuck with him until he finished, and by the time he got down to storage to finish the last of his tasks, it was just before dinner.

Then finally, _finally,_ he was able to get some privacy from the others as he slipped into Red’s room afterwards. Black shot him a disapproving look, but Cyan ignored it, opting instead to press his entire body against Red’s the moment they were both in the room.

“I’m not complaining,” Red said as he combed his fingers through Cyan’s hair, “but what’s wrong?”

“How do you do it?”

“What?” 

“Live like this?” Cyan fisted Red’s suit as he whined. 

Red’s hands paused in his hair for a moment before resuming. It took so long for Red to reply, that part of Cyan wondered if Red had someone not heard him. But then finally, Red sighed, “One day at a time.”

Red leaned back away from Cyan just enough to get his hand between them so he could tilt Cyan’s face up. “You’ll get through this.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will,” Red argued. “But if you don’t, then worst-case scenario; I’ll take care of it.” Cyan didn’t like the sound of that. “But you will get through this. It’s always hardest during the Change, and once you’ve… well, once we make it to the planet, you’ll be good to go.”

He knew exactly where Red had been going, and he also knew exactly why Red avoided it. Once he got to the planet, he could _eat_. And really, once he did that, it would be better for him. He _almost_ wished that they had kept the bodies of their deceased crewmates.

“I can try to distract you?” Red suggested. Cyan wanted to talk, to ask Red about his childhood – about growing up on a ship – but he didn’t think he would be able to focus on it. He didn’t know if this was the type of distraction Red was offering, but it was the type Cyan was taking. 

He tightened his grip on Red’s suit and pulled Red down and himself up to press his lips against Red’s. Automatically, Red leaned down into the kiss, his hands going to Cyan’s waist. He let go of Red’s suit just to wrap his arms around Red’s shoulders and neck.

One moment Cyan’s feet were on the floor, the next he was wrapping them around Red’s waist as he was picked up and carried over to the bed. 

“Yes,” Cyan hissed, and he wasn’t sure if he was answering Red anymore, or just chasing the distraction.

Red gave him a blood packet the next morning, wrinkling his nose at the scent of it. Cyan couldn’t say that he minded. It smelled just as good as it ever had, and the taste was still rich on his tongue. Cyan practically moaned as he finished it off. 

Why had he ever been denying himself this? 

“Most don’t care for old blood.” Red commented as he tossed the now empty bag to the trash. Something about the careful tone sounded off to Cyan, but he didn’t get a chance to ask why before Red was continuing with, “We should head to the cafeteria and get you some breakfast.”

Looked like he would need to shelf his question for later. 

The hickeys Red had given him hadn’t even faded, and yet Red had already given him some new ones. So, he was fully expecting teasing when he walked into the cafeteria. 

Cyan had resigned himself to being marked up for as long as he was with Red. If it wasn’t his neck, then it would be his thighs or wherever Red could get. And so long as the distractions were that nice, he couldn’t say he minded much.

His parents would be scandalized, but unless they ended up on Survivor Crews, he very much doubted he would ever see them again.

Surprisingly, the embarrassment he was expecting didn’t come – at least not right away. There were no comments about him or Red. 

He slurped on a protein shake – flavored with the blood taste left in his mouth – as he scrolled through his tasks. “I’ve got wires in Admin, Storage, and Electrical.” He informed White, putting down the finished shake. “We should hit up Admin first.”

White nodded. “I can take care of Storage while you do Admin.”

Cyan nodded, but Black frowned. “You’re supposed to stay together.”

“Oh, lighten up, Black.” White tapped his hand with hers. “It’s literally a few steps away. What boogey man is going to get Cyan when I’m only a _few steps away_?”

Black grimaced. 

“She’s not wrong.” Red took a long draw from his shake before sliding it over to in front of Cyan. Cyan took it and sipped it. “You’ll be able to watch the junction on the cameras, and I’ll be over in medbay.” Under the table, Red squeezed his knee. 

Cyan responded by lightly kicking Red’s foot with his own. 

Apparently White had some sort of radar for ‘cutesy couple shit’ because she rolled her eyes and stood from the table. “Right.” She announced. “Enough of that. C’mon Cyan, you can drink your boyfriend’s _protein shake_ later.” 

Cyan choked on his (Red’s) protein shake and flushed from head to toe while Orange broke out into rambunctious laughter. 

Purple sighed heavily and adjusted their glasses. “While it pains me to agree with _White_ , we should get to our tasks.” They looked over to Black. “I do not see an issue with White being allowed to work on the Storage wiring while Cyan works on Admin’s. 

“That make me, White, Cyan, Red, _and_ Purple who alllll agree there’s no big deal. You’re outnumbered, Black.” Orange grinned. “Lighten up, you let me work on the wire panel outside security from time to time, what’s the difference?”

“That’s not fair that the rest of us have to be attached to our partner by the hip and you don’t.” Much like Purple, Cyan had to agree with White on this point as well. 

It seemed that Black knew a lost battle when he saw one because he sighed and shook his head. “Whatever.”

“Let’s go, short stack.” White jerked her head in the direction of Admin. Cyan sighed, collected both protein shakes, and tossed them before following her over. 

As it turned out, Orange had a couple of tasks in Admin as well since she followed Cyan into Admin. Black followed White out to Storage to scold her for her lack of attention to security protocols. It wasn’t like Cyan was trying to eavesdrop, but it was difficult with his enhanced hearing.

Orange swiped her card, and then stood by him to upload up some documents to Mira HQ. Once the upload started, she elbowed him. The utility knife he was using to pry open the panel sank in too deep, and he grimaced as he felt it catch on the wires. 

“Oops!” She blinked at him. “Sorry, Cyan!”

“It’s fine.” He smiled reassuringly at her, pulled the knife back out – more wires cut – and pried the panel off. He dropped it at his feet and studied the damage with his hands on his hips. 

“That looks _fun_.” Orange peered over his shoulder. Just like with White yesterday, there was this almost instinctual urge to snap at her that he only barely managed to hold back. He _liked_ Orange. He didn’t _want_ anything to happen to her.

He didn’t want anything to happen to anyone. And he most certainly did not want to be the one **_to_** hurt someone. 

She leaned against him and dropped her weight onto his shoulder. Even with shallow breaths, he could smell her. Not her shampoo and conditioner, or her deodorant or lotion or any other products. ~~Although he could smell those too.~~ But _her._

His stomach twisted as his teeth seemed to ache. His hands flexed against his will, and he clenched them, pressing his fingers harshly into his hips. 

It occurred to Cyan that he didn’t know how much time had passed since she had spoken. What had it been again? Something about the wires… that he was supposed to be fixing. 

“Mm, more or less what I expected.” Cyan forced the words out. They felt weird and strange in his mouth, even as they sounded perfectly fine and normal to his ears. 

“Speaking of expectations…” By the grin fixed on her face and the waggle of her eyebrows on the last word, Cyan had an idea of what she was implying when she trailed off. 

When he didn’t respond, she nudged him. His eye twitched. The blood packet and the protein shakes from not even an hour ago seemed awfully insufficient now. Well, more insufficient than they already seemed.

He turned his attention to the wires tracing over the same ones over and over as he tried to make his brain focus on them instead. Finally, _finally_ , something latched onto his brain as he realized that the pink wire was only barely hanging on.

He let go of his hips hips only long enough to bury his hands into the wires. It wouldn’t take much force to… “Oh, Stars!” Orange bounced off of them to take the few steps over to the upload station to smack it. The screen, thankfully, remained static. 

“Sorry, Orange.” Cyan hoped his smile looked sheepish. “The wire must have already been loose. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” She sighed. “I’ll just, ugh, do this later or something. But mark my words, we’ll _talk_ later.” She unplugged her tablet and made her way down to storage where White was studiously ignoring Black. 

“Sure, Orange!” He called over his shoulder before getting back to being elbows-deep into the wires. He really needed to talk to Red if this was going to become a normal occurrence. He had been lucky this time, but the next?

Who was to say that he would be able to control himself next time? Who was to say that he wouldn’t just…

He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that or even like that. Red believe in him – believed he was strong enough to control it. And _he had_. 

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. 

Every so often the wires became blurry and he had to pause and take a break to shake his head and refocus. Wire work used to be something of a ‘zen’ task for him. Something he could just zone out and do without thinking, and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit that now he had to practically force himself to focus every few minutes.

He took a break, pausing to wipe the sweat off his brow. He had left his helmet in the cafeteria, like an idiot. But he could probably swing back by and grab it after he finished this task or after lunch; whichever came first. 

Behind him, he heard the hiss of a door closing, and when he looked over his shoulder, he noticed _both_ doors had closed. 

“Stars,” He heard White curse. “Cyan?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I accidently fucked up the door.” He hummed and bounced on his toes. Anxiety spiked in his gut. Something didn’t feel right to him about this situation. “Could you come over and look?”

“I would, but the cafeteria doors closed too.”

“Stars,” White swore again. “Look, don’t panic.”

Cyan was most certainly not panicking – not yet – and he laughed. It came out maybe just a little shrill. It wasn’t like he was locked in Admin until the end of the trip. Orange would be able to fix the wires and get him out.

“I’m going to run to Security and see if I can remotely unlock it from there.”

Cyan nibbled on his bottom lip. It wasn’t a bad idea, and it wouldn’t take her too long to do it. If push came to shove, she could ask Orange to come and fix the wires. He nodded. “Alright.”

She knocked on the door twice. “Be back soon!” He heard the sound of her retreating footsteps and then there was silence. 


	17. Chapter 17

White had left only moments ago, but the silence felt like it was stretching on for an eternity. 

It wasn’t that Cyan had a problem with silence. The silence when working side-by-side with a fellow engineer or when stargazing with Red was different than the silence he felt now. This silence was oppressive and tense, like the feeling before a storm was going to hit.

Not that Cyan had much experience with storms. He hadn’t encountered them often on his home world, and out in space, storms were a completely different matter entirely. 

“I’m being ridiculous,” Cyan muttered to himself, shaking his head. 

The doors were just malfunctioning. There was nothing malicious or dangerous about that. And, if Cyan was being honest, the entire ship was falling apart.

Sure, he tried his best to gloss over that fact so he didn’t mentally freak himself out on the idea of the ship literally falling apart and leaving them stranded in space. But the truth was the truth. 

The lights flickered no matter how many times the distributor was fixed, power had to be continuously redirected to key areas, and the less said about the wire management the better. And those were just the _electrical_ issues Cyan had noticed.

Out of all of Cyan’s previous missions, this ship was definitely the kind that he and his fellow engineers would joke as being a ‘junker’. Once upon a time, he pitied anyone who would have to work and rely on one, and well, here he was. 

The truly sad thing was that Cyan had the feeling that a ship in this state wasn’t going to be unusual for him moving forward. Everyone else who had been on a ‘Survivor Crew’ didn’t bat an eyelash at the state of the ship. 

…Maybe there was something to Orange’s suggestion to just smack things until they started to work. She had been in Survivor Crews for much longer than Cyan. 

He forced himself to return to his wires, but the sense of unease provided by the silence continued to press down on him. He hummed to himself in the hope that it would help, but all it did was further compound that he was _alone_ on a ship where a murderer was ~~potentially~~ still free. 

The silence continued to stretch… until it didn’t. 

Cyan jumped as the Imminent Reactor Meltdown alarm sounded off. The lights flickered off, only to flip back on to wash the environment in the flashing red emergency light. Cyan’s first instinct was to head to the doors, but they both remained stubbornly shut.

Trapped in Admin, he would be useless for this emergency. There was nothing he could do, no way to monitor – wait a moment. It only took Cyan a few steps to head over to the Admin console. 

Pink had once told him that his favorite way to pass time while in Admin was to watch people move about the ship and make up stories about them. _“The worst thing about it,”_ Pink had lamented, _“is that it doesn’t tell you who is who.”_

At the time, Cyan hadn’t really cared about it beyond ‘another thing to potentially break,’ but now? He swiped his card, unlocking the console and pulling up the ship map.

There were two people in Security, two in medbay, one in admin and… wait. There was only one person in Security now, no, two people again. Another person popped up in the Reactor area. Both people in Medbay left. Someone left Security and then the other. Then there was no one in Security, three people in the Reactor, and one person in the medbay. 

The alarm fell silent. The lights flashed twice before the standard dim white lights returned. 

Cyan did a quick count. Three in Reactor, one in Medbay – who just left – and one in Admin. That was only five people. 

His gut sank, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. There were only five people. He tried to tell himself that the sixth person was in a hallway and would pop up in a room soon. The hallway didn’t have sensors that could pick up a crewmate’s presence like the room did. 

If they were traveling, it would explain the ‘missing’ person. 

This wasn’t anything to worry about. This was fine. This was totally fine. It wasn’t like he was trapped in Admin. Except he was. He was, and without White to boot.

If someone was dead – oh, Stars. Who could it be??? – he would be a prime suspect. White knew he was trapped in here, but maybe she would doubt he was telling the truth about the cafeteria doors? It would be a clever excuse.

Red would believe him. 

Red knew that Cyan didn’t want to kill. But what about the others? Would they listen? Orange claimed that he was one of Black’s favorites, but would that be enough to protect him from scrutiny? What about Purple? Would they choose to protect Cyan like they had been, or would they use the opportunity to give him up? He had worked with Orange alone plenty of times, surely, she wouldn’t accuse him.

He didn’t even know who was potentially dead. White, Red, Purple, Black, Orange. Those were the options, and the thought of _any one_ of them being dead was enough to make him sick to his stomach. 

His mind flashed to the vague memories of the Medbay from that night Red confronted Purple. He had blacked out for a good portion of it, but he knew that the end result had been Purple being impaled through the shoulder and held up a good foot off the ground. 

He knew from personal experiences how solid Red’s tentacles were. How strong they could grip around his wrists or body despite how gentle Red was being with them with Cyan.

With his heightened senses, Red wouldn’t be easy to catch off-guard, and there was no way he would go down without a fight. 

Was it bad that Cyan felt a little more at ease at the rationalization that of the remaining crewmates, Red was the least likely to have been killed?

But in that same vein, it also meant that Red was the most likely to have been the killer. What if Red finally killed Purple because of something they said or implied? What if it was another Green situation where Red felt like he had no choice but to kill Purple in order to protect Cyan?

If Red was going to kill anyone, it would be Purple. They were the only other one to know that both Cyan and Red were Impostors. 

But no, Red was smarter than that. He wouldn’t kill Purple when Purple was his ‘partner.’ It would be too suspicious, and Black already didn’t trust or like Red. Purple’s death would be all Black needed to sway Orange and White’s votes.

And if it wasn’t Red who killed Purple, then that meant Purple was likely still alive since they were ‘partners.’

So, if it wasn’t Red or Purple, then who? The only ones left were White, Orange, and Black.

He couldn’t imagine any of Security going down easily, but he also couldn’t imagine that Black would let anything happen to Orange. Unless _Black_ was the other Impostor. The one who killed Pink and Yellow. He could leave Orange alive, knowing she would stand up for him, and then…

White. Who was alone, who went to Security _alone_ to unlock the doors for Cyan. Black could have easily killed her. Cyan didn’t help with the reactor, and then White ended up dead? All signs would point to him.

Red would never believe it, but that was only one vote. Purple, Orange, and Black would hold the majority, and the evidence would be strong against Cyan.

The screen changing on the console tore Cyan attention back down to it. Someone popped up in Electricity, and then in Storage. 

There were still only five people on the map. The three that had been in the Reactor were all in Security now. He hadn’t seen anyone pop up in Lower Engine. Which meant… the person who was in Electricity, the person who went into Storage was the other _Impostor._

_The one who killed Pink and Yellow. And maybe a third unknown victim._

There was a knock on the door separating him from Storage. His heart was pounding, echoing the sound. 

Cyan shuffled back until his legs hit the admin table. His gaze darted from here to there, looking for any sort of escape. 

The only way out was the vent, and to use that would practically scream ‘I’m the Impostor’. 

He was damned if he stayed and damned if he escaped. 

The knocking continued, incessantly. They were increasing in volume and frequency, echoing in his ears over and over and over. The metallic reverb was the worst part of it, ringing in his ears after each bang. He pressed his hands over his ears, and then against better judgement, shouted, “I’m still here.”

All at once the knocking stopped. Silence echoed in the sudden absence of the noise. Cyan let out a ragged breath and dropped his hands from his ears. 

“Is the Cafeteria door open?” White’s voice echoed from behind the door. 

At first, he was relieved that she was alright. But that relief very quickly faded to horror as he realized that her being alive meant that someone else was dead, meant that _she_ was the other Impostor.

Cyan felt like he stopped breathing. All this time he had been alone with her, and **_she_** was the other Impostor. The one who murdered Pink and Yellow and now one of his friends. 

It seemed impossible to imagine. But the harder Cyan thought about it, the more he realized that he didn’t really know her. He knew nothing of her history, personality, or motives.

And yet, it made _sense_ in a strange sort of way that White was the Impostor. He couldn’t recall White ever saying where she had been for Pink, Yellow, or Green’s deaths – never mind the fact that he knew Green had been Red’s doing. She had been so certain about Brown _not_ being the Impostor who killed Yellow.

Who better to know than the actual murderer?

And… she had been working on the panel next to the door that locked him in _Admin_.

“Cyan?!” White called out. She knocked on the door again, and he winced.

“I’m here.”

The banging on the door stopped the moment he replied. It was a small relief, but not much of one. Especially since he knew the doors wouldn’t stop her if she wanted to get in here. She had proven (through the Admin console) that she could traverse through the vents.

Was she human or parasite? Did it even matter?

“That’s strange,” White informed him. “The Security Office says it is. Let me go get Orange and Black to take a look at it.”

Why was she acting so… normal? It was almost enough to make Cyan doubt, but he knew what he had seen through the console. White _had_ to be the Impostor.

He waited for the echoing sound of her retreating footsteps before approaching the door. She had _claimed_ to be going to security, but her footsteps – unless his hearing was wrong – indicated she was headed towards communications.

He didn’t know what she was planning on doing, but he knew a window of opportunity when he saw one. He bounced away from the console and headed towards the storage doors. She must have tampered with the wires, and if he could just access them from this side, he might be able to get the door open.

The biggest glaring issue with this being that the wires were never meant to be accessed from this side of the door. Even with his tool, he wouldn’t be able to pop the metal sheeting off. He tried anyways. He tried the tool and his knife, but all he managed to do was scratch the metal. 

As a last ditch – and desperate – effort, he peeled off his gloves and pried his nails into the basically non-existent gap between the plates. He pulled until his nails were practically begging for mercy. There was no give from the plate. 

He growled under his breath in mixture of anxiety and frustration. He didn’t have time for this. He didn’t know where White was or how much time he had left before she figured out a way into this room.

The grip on the panel was almost painful for his nails now, but the pain was different. It was like something just… snapped in his mind. Like he broke through a barrier he hadn’t known existed. He could feel his fingers thin and expand, stretching and sliding under the plating.

The pain from the pressure on his nails faded, and now there was just this sense of _pressure_ on his fingers. He pulled. The metal plating groaned in protest. He pulled again, and this time, the metal plating popped off.

He didn’t have time to marvel at what he did, or how his fingers morphed back into the fingers he’d always known – including the small scars where he’d cut himself accidently over the years. No, he immediately set himself to work on the mess of wires. 

If he had any doubts about White – he didn’t – they would have been gone just by looking at the job she did on the wires. 

She hadn’t even attempted to fix them. It was a miracle she hadn’t done more than just break the door.

As much as the inner Engineer in him cried, he didn’t have time to focus or worry on detangling the mess, only on getting it fixed as quickly as possible. 

There was a rattle from the vent in the room behind him. He didn’t bother looking over his shoulder at the vent or interrupting his work to go examine it. He knew what that noise meant. White had found a vent that connected to his, and she _was on her way_. 

This wasn’t about framing Cyan anymore – if it had ever been to begin with. No, this was about cornering him like a mouse in a trap to be put down at her leisure.

Electricity sparked from the wire to his hand as he connected the last one. He hissed as he sucked on his fingers – this was why he should be wearing gloves – but the door slid open successfully. Well, moderately successfully. He would have cheered if that wouldn’t have alerted White. 

As it was, he slipped through the small but steadily widening gap in the door and pretended that he couldn’t feel his body break and conform to fit him through so small a space. His body snapped back to normal once he was through.

Was this how Impostors normally got through tiny spaces? If so, Cyan wasn’t sure he would ever get over how weird it felt. 

Okay, so he was out of Admin. Where did he go now? 

Everyone who was left was probably still near the reactor, and he _knew_ White had headed towards Communications and had found a vent into Admin. To go that way would be stupid, but White would never suspect it.

Even still, the idea seemed like a stupid one. His best bet was to either try to make it to the others or try to get to the Cafeteria to hit the Emergency Meeting button.

He raced for the hallway that led to the Lower Engines. If he could make it there, then he could make it to Security, and find ~~Red~~ help.

Now, storage was always known for being an unsecured mess. Boxes fell, slid across the room, and some even floated in patches where artificial gravity failed. Technically speaking, it was Admin’s job to sort, organize, and secure Storage, but it was so seldomly done that Cyan didn’t think Mira even added it as a task anymore. 

And for the most part, it wasn’t ever a problem. The artificial gravity issue was perhaps the most concerning, but it was a _known_ issue of all Skeld-Class Frigates, and it only ever affected the upper layers of storage.

And, truth be told, the artificial gravity _still_ wasn’t a problem. No, the problem came from the general disarray, and him tripping over a box that on any normal day, he would have seen and stepped around. 

He hit the floor with a solid thunk. Not even a few feet away from him, the door to the Lower Engines slid shut with a finalized hiss that seemed to scream ‘game over’. White tsked from somewhere behind him. 

“Should have known you’d figure it out.” Her voice echoed in the room, bouncing off the boxes and metal walls. “You should have stayed in Admin, Cyan.” 

He pulled himself up to his hands and knees, and then dodge-rolled over to hide behind one of the larger stacks of boxes. White’s footsteps echoed in the large empty room. She sighed dramatically. 

“I was going to make this quick for you, but…” White dragged the word out, “you’re right. Hide and Seek is much more _fun_.”

Her footsteps indicated that she wasn’t in any big hurry or rush, and her posture once she stepped into view only confirmed that. He could smell blood as she approached, and he realized with a start that she was idly twirling a large knife that dripped blood with every exaggerated movement.

She stopped at the box that Cyan had tripped over and then after a moment of deliberation, kicked it towards the stack that Cyan was hiding behind. He winced as the impact made the stack wobble dangerously. 

There was some blood splatter on the box she had kicked. The smell was almost overpowering now that it was closer. His body ached, and there was some small dark part of his mind that hissed at him that he didn’t need to run and hide. He could take care of White himself. 

She had _killed_ others on the ship. She had killed a _friend_ of his. Surely she, out of anyone on this ship, deserved to be—

He shut his eyes and curled into himself. “No,” he mouthed quietly. “No, no, no.” He wouldn’t stoop to her level, he wouldn’t _kill_. Red might not have a problem with it, but Cyan did, and he _refused_ to let what he had become change that part of himself.

~~But he was so hungry, and she was _right there_. ~~

“Where, oh where could Cyan be?” She sung, as she spun around in a slow circle. “I didn’t intend to get caught.” She sighed again. “But seeing Red’s face after I kill you will make it better.” 

Cyan balled his hands into fists at her words, venomous anger rising up within him. Why did White hate Red so much? Or was it not Red that she hated, but just the thought of someone else being happy in a relationship? Or did she just delight in seeing people’s misery?

Maybe if he managed to hide long enough, not only would she share the answers with him, but it’d give Red or the others time to make it to him. Because if there was one thing she had inadvertently shared, it was that Red was not the missing crewmate; Red was not dead.

He couldn’t be if she was looking forward to his expression. 

Which, of course Red wasn’t dead. Cyan hadn’t really even considered that he could be. So who was it? Someone was dead – the fresh blood was proof enough – but who? Black, Orange, Purple? Which of his friends was gone?

Purple seldom left the Medbay, which made them a prime victim. But they also were paired with Red, which provided them equal measure of protection and danger.

Which left Orange and Black. Of the two, Cyan felt White would have gone after Orange. She was an old friend of Red’s, and White had already expressed interest in hurting Red by killing those close to him.

His heart ached with the idea of no longer seeing Orange during meals and having to finish up engineer tasks alone. If she was gone, he would never hear her teasing him over Red or witness her _creative_ way of fixing things.

Besides himself, she was the friendliest person on the ship. Black, Red, Purple, and even White were all standoffish, although some more than others. And her death would undoubtedly put a grey veil of misery over the rest of the mission. 

A hand wrapped around his arm, nails digging into him through her glove and his suit. He opened his eyes to meet White’s. She was smiling, but it wasn’t friendly. 

“ _Found you~”_ She practically sung as she dragged him out. His gaze darted around, trying to find some escape, but the only thing he could see was the still partially opened door leading to Admin. “Well, this was a fun game,” White commented as she raised her knife. A shadow loomed in the doorway. “Any last words?”

“You lose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for this being so late. I meant to update sooner, but I got caught up in my two jobs plus a gift wrapping service. Additionally, I just haven't been having a good time lately. 
> 
> Soooo, before I left to my sister's house for Christmas, I blew out a candle I had burning on my vanity. I returned 2.5 hours later to discover that said candle exploded, shattering glass across my room, burning a big black mark into my vanity, and putting some minor smoke damage on the wall. Irritating, but not world ending. So I took the vanity apart, sanded it down, and repainted it. Well, somehow between me taking it upstairs again and me actually going to reassemble it, the mirror broke. I was over 2 hours late to one of my jobs. My cat wouldn't stop yowling at night (he is fixed, but he wasn't acting like it). We ended up taking him to the vet and now he's on anti-depressants. One of the cats managed to not only pee outside the litter box, but under the hard plastic kennel pad I have under the litter box, under the desk chair mat I have under the kennel pad, and onto the carpet. So I had to clean all that up and got pee on me. Then when I was taking out the garbage, it split and I got garbage all over me. My internet has gone out enough times that Spectrum has spent one of their Senior Techs out, and I got the Tech's cell phone number to text if I have another internet issue because apparently management is emailing about my location and calls. 
> 
> Oh, and the cherry on top? My computer (which I got earlier this year) crashed. So I took it back to Best Buy and they were able to exchange for a new computer... but then I had to reset up my computer -- which takes time and energy, of which I had little to none. 
> 
> As a matter of fact, I am posting this chapter and then Immediately going straight to bed.


	18. Chapter 18

In their – admittedly short – time of knowing each other, Cyan couldn’t recall ever being so happy to hear Red’s voice before, even if it sounded strangely distorted and growly. White, he imagined, was less happy. 

He would never get to know for sure as she wasn’t given a chance to respond before she jolted forward, blood spilling out of her lips and cascading down her chin. She coughed, spraying blood onto Cyan’s face. 

Over her shoulder, Cyan saw Red step fully into the room. His eyes were glowing that same bright, dangerous red that Cyan had seen that night in the Medbay. He growled, and White let out a garbled gasp.

Cyan’s gaze flickered back to her ~~and lingered on the blood dripping off her chin before~~ trailing downwards. In a horrible, terrible way, it was sort of mesmerizing to watch Red’s tentacles pulse and writhe as they laced through White’s body and suit. 

It reminded him very vaguely of the times he watched his grandmother sew back on his home planet. White’s body was the cloth and Red’s tentacles were the needle and thread. In and out, loop and loop. It was like watching an accident; terrible to see yet impossible to look away from.

Red’s tentacles squeezed corresponding perfectly with White wheezing, sending another spray of hot blood. And then she was still. White’s jaw moved up and down, like she was trying to speak, but the only thing that escaped was gargles and a stream of blood that spilled down her chin and dripped onto the floor with a sound that echoed in Cyan’s ears.

Her hold on Cyan went limp, her head slumped forward. The last thing Cyan saw of her eyes was the light within fading away. 

Some part of him should feel terrible and disgusted but all he could feel was _Hungry_. His body ached, his stomach rolled, his teeth hurt, and so many other signs that he had come to realize by now meant that he was _Hungry._

And how sick was that? That he had just watched a crewmate – an Impostor, a murderer, a killer of _friends_ – die and all he felt was hunger?

He stumbled backwards, out of her limp, dead grip despite everything in his head screaming at him to move forward. To bury her body in his gullet like he could just rip his own body in half into a giant maw that could swallow her whole. 

Despite being clearly dead, White remained standing. Or at least, she was. With a twitch of Red’s tentacles, she was thrown aside like a doll that a child no longer wished to play with. She landed on the ground with a thick wet squelch. 

Cyan’s entire body flinched at the noise. 

He stared at her body and the blood leaking out. Vividly, he was reminded of Yellow, and the blood that he had tasted. He wasn’t aware he had licked his lips until he tasted White’s blood on this tongue. 

Hands were on his face, gently guiding it until he was looking up at Red. His eyes still matched his name, and the sight of them made his stomach twist in a pleasant way. Red’s hands and fingers practically glided over Cyan’s face, lubricated by White’s blood.

“Are you alright?” Red’s voice sounded more like how Cyan was used to. “Did she hurt you?”

Cyan didn’t trust his mouth to speak. When he ran his tongue over his teeth, they felt too sharp. His tongue itself felt too large for his mouth. Every swallow was thick. His mind kept replaying the images of White’s blood dripping out of her mouth and her body landing on the ground.

“Cyan?” Red’s voice was a gentle rumble, a reassuring purr. He latched onto it, forcing himself to focus on Red and not the body laying not too far away. He shook his head.

Red’s eyes narrowed; the corners of his lips twitched downwards. The pads of Red’s thumbs pressed into his skin as he wiped off more of the blood splatter. 

“We’ll need to double back to get your helmet,” Red commented. “Your eyes are so beautifully bright.” The last part was _wrong_ if only in the aspect that he _heard_ Red speak but he was pretty sure Red’s mouth _didn’t move_.

Okay, so clearly Cyan was having some sort of breakdown as a result of his near-death experience and _Hunger_.

“Oh, you’re Hungry all right.” 

Was Red reading his thoughts?

Red cleared his throat in an decidedly awkward way that made Cyan think that the answer was very strongly, ‘yes’. 

“In a manner of speaking.” Red’s hands fell down to Cyan’s shoulders and then down Cyan’s arms until he came to Cyan’s hands. Quietly, Cyan heard, _“That’s right, focus on this.”_ Red squeezed reassuringly, and then started to guide Cyan out of Storage towards Admin.

“We’re psychic?”

“No,” Red snorted. “Not really. We can only do this with others like us, and we have to be touching.” As if to prove his point, he squeezed Cyan’s hands again. “It’s not easy to do.”

Well, that was pretty obvious since this was the first time Cyan was aware of ever experiencing this. “You tend to be loud when you’re distressed.” 

“We’ve done this before?”

“Twice.” Red nodded. “When you had to clean up the mess Green made, and when Purple hurt you. But this is the first time you heard me.”

“You thought my eyes were beautiful,” Cyan whispered as he stepped into Admin. The door to storage was opened wider than it had been when he first squeezed through, and across the hall, the Cafeteria door was wide open.

Red looked over his shoulder at the doors to the cafeteria before seemingly making his mind up and guiding Cyan over to the mirror in the room that Pink had set up at the beginning of the trip.

Cyan blinked at his reflection, and stepped away from Red to touch it to make sure it was real. He looked terrified and scared with wide eyes and a blood-streaked face. But his eyes were… not the light gray he was used to. 

Red’s eyes had dimmed down to more of a dark red rather than the bright glow from before. But Cyan’s eyes… Cyan’s eyes were a brilliant bright blue that reminded him vividly of the serum Purple had given him and the dreams of dripping blue-black slime.

His reflection mirrored his movements as he touched under his eyes. “What happened to my eyes?”

“It’s part of being an Impostor.” Red very gently tugged him away from the mirror. The tug was light enough that if Cyan wanted to resist, he could have. He came away easily, unsure of how exactly to feel about the development. “Although, I’ve never seen a color other than red.”

There was a current of uncertainty in Red’s words that worried Cyan. Red was the leading expert on Impostors and if _he_ had never seen another with eyes like Cyan’s, then what did that mean?

“So, I’m weird?”

“You’re different,” Red corrected. “My best guess is that it has something do with what Purple did to you.”

“Why did my eyes change?”

“A variety of things can set it off. It’s one reason we tend to keep our helmets on.” 

Red led them through the cafeteria – where Cyan’s helmet was grabbed and put on since his eyes weren’t fading as quickly as Red’s– to the hallway leading to medbay, and then down through the upper engine to security. 

Cyan heard the sobbing before they even reached the door to Security. Red hesitated, and Cyan only needed to peek around him for a second to see why.

Orange was kneeling on the floor, cradling half of Black’s body close as she bowed over him and sobbed. Blood was smeared on the floor in a clear sign of Black attempting to crawl and there was a half-smeared message not far from Orange.

Purple crouched near her, their hand on her shoulder. They looked up and their gaze met Red’s first before dropping down to Cyan. Their glasses glinted as they looked back up at Red. “White?” They asked.

“She was threatening Cyan in Storage. I managed to airlock her.” 

Orange let out a startled noise that sounded like a mixture of a laugh and a sob. “Fucking bitch.” 

“Black was a good crewmate.” Red sighed. “He didn’t deserve to go out like this.”

“He didn’t deserve to go out at all!” She wailed. “If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have known it was White.” She gestured without looking in the direction of the smeared message. “He was…”

“A good crewmate,” Purple finished where she trailed off. The hand on her shoulder slipped back to rub at her back. “Why don’t you and Cyan go to Medbay? Red and I can… take care of this.”

At Purple’s suggestion, Red walked forward until he could crouch beside Orange. Gently he pulled away Black’s body from her and placed it on the floor. Orange stared down at her empty bloodstained lap, like she didn’t know what to do with it. 

“I don’t know what to do without him,” she whispered. 

“Orange.” Cyan’s heart went out to her. He held out his hands, unwilling and unable to cross the threshold into the room proper. He didn’t trust himself, and dead or not, Black was a _friend_. 

Red helped her to stand and guided her over to Cyan. He might have been smaller than her, but she practically collapsed in his arms. “Take her to Medbay?” he asked. Cyan nodded, and wrapped his arm around her.

“C’mon.” He whispered to her. “He would want you to continue on.” 

She sniffled and sobbed into his shoulder, even as he tried to lead her down the hallway. From the security room, he could hear the sounds of Red and Purple starting an argument. If he strained his ears, he could probably hear what it was about.

But that wasn’t important to him right now. No, what was important was the friend currently clinging onto him like he was a life preserver in the middle of an ocean. 

Somehow, he managed to get her to the Medbay and onto one of the beds there even with her clinging to him. He wrapped his arms around her, as she sobbed into him. As he shushed her, he noticed the vent in the corner was askew.

White must have come in to here after killing Black, but why? To kill Purple or Red? He closed his eyes and rested his head against Orange’s. It didn’t matter. She was dead now.

And as if to thank him for the reminder, his stomach twisted. 

Not Orange. He wouldn’t touch Orange. Not Orange or Purple or even Black. But White… his body shuddered in anticipation.

And how messed up was that? That when he should have been mourning the loss of a friend with another that he was thinking about _eating the murderer._ Orange squirmed in his grasp and he realized that he was holding onto her perhaps a bit too tightly.

She pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” 

“He was your friend too…”

Black had been his friend, but… Guilt bubbled within Cyan. When he had been theorizing who had died, he had assumed it was Orange. Not Black. He had never even stopped to consider that it could have been his oldest friend on the ship. When was the last time he even really spoke with Black or spent time with him?

All those years and Black still considered Cyan a friend. But Cyan? Cyan had been too caught up in everything else – including Red – to even think about his friend.

“He was a good friend,” Cyan commented. He had always looked out for Cyan. 

Orange nodded and burst into tears again. “He was right behind me.” She sobbed. “The alarm went off, and he was right behind me, but then he wasn’t with me in the reactor and… I should have noticed!”

“You couldn’t have known,” Cyan tried to reassure her. 

“I should have!” She shook her head. “I should have tried harder to find out who the Impostor was. Black didn’t think it was Brown, but I didn’t want to listen. I just wanted to pretend it was all over.”

“It is now,” Cyan promised. “Red pushed her out of the airlock. She can’t hurt anyone again.”

“But she killed Black!” She fell onto him as she continued to sob. He rubbed at her upper back, unsure of how exactly to comfort her or even if there _was_ anything he could do to comfort her.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there with Orange before a soft knock at the wall next to the Medbay door brought his attention to Purple. Purple’s glasses flashed as they nodded their head towards the hallway. 

“I’ve got her from here,” Purple informed him, stepping into the room. They turned their attention towards her, and Cyan watched their expression soften. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Cyan pulled away from her to stand and hesitated in the room. Orange sniffled. “It’s going to take hours.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ll be allowed to take your time.” Purple took the seat that Cyan vacated, and upon noticing Cyan standing there, nodded their head, once again, towards the hallway.

Well, Cyan could take a hint. Red was waiting outside, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. He bounced off the wall when he saw Cyan. 

Red stalked forward and stopped just before Cyan. He offered his hand. “Let’s get you taken care of.” He spoke softly enough that the others in the room behind Cyan wouldn’t be able to hear. 

There was no doubt what Red was talking about. His stomach twisted, both in Hunger and anticipation. He put his hand in Red’s and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. I got one more chapter that's written and just needs to be reviewed, and then then I got one more chapter left to write. I'm coming up on some unspoken for (except for my Birthday) days off, so.... I'm super excited about that! Hopefully I'll get this fic cranked out by this time next week! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Come Talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)! I have a discord too, if that works better for you guys! :D


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